Shinigami Sleeps: A Duo and Trowa Story
by The Manwell
Summary: AC 198: Trowa's instincts are telling him there's something very wrong with Duo. And although he barely knows the former Deathsycthe pilot, he sets out to find him and help him. Whatever the cost. Shounen-ai, friendship, romance. (Complete)
1. Chapter 1: False Memory

**Shinigami Sleeps**

A Gundam Wing Fan Fiction

Derived from the Dreams of The Manwell

**...**

**_A note from the author:_**

This is a story about Trowa and Duo and is completely independent of my other GW fan fictions. Although I'm not entirely certain what the relationship between Trowa and Duo will be like yet... so it could be friendship only, shounen ai, or yaoi. Be prepared for anything. I have the feeling that, as the story progresses, Trowa and Duo will inform _me_ of what sort of relationship they want. Odd, but that's how it works sometimes. So, I'm rating this fiction **PG-13** mainly for language and angst in later chapters but reserve the right to change the rating if, in fact, things do take a turn for the yaoi.

Also, I am a big fan of the Episode Zero manga and the official series so, wherever possible, I have used those materials to support the plot. I try to avoid being repetitious and tend not to go into great detail about the events already portrayed by these media, so if my vague references are confusing, I apologize. But I've included footnotes, so hopefully that will clear up any questions. I highly recommend (to those of you who are _at least_ moderately faithful fans of the series) buying the Episode Zero manga. It's about $14 at Barnes & Noble, Amazon, and Media Play. The stories are fascinating (especially Quatre's) and the art is fantastic.

As it says above, this story is, in fact, based on a dream I had. If you're curious about it enough to want to read a synopsis of it and/or you'd like to see a nice bit of fan art for _Shinigami Sleeps_ please head over to my Bio page where I've posted the url where you can find a bit of fanart with the same name as this story.

Since we all know my ownership of Gundam Wing is no more than a delusional fantasy, I'll skip the disclaimer bit. If I gain anything from this fiction, it will be satisfaction at having written it and, reviewers willing, joy at having shared it with others.

**...**

**Chapter 1: False Memory**

_ **I walk toward** the designated safe house, my thoughts barely discernable above my exhaustion. The mission had been… difficult. Backup would have been welcome. But that does not matter now. The mission objectives have been completed and the targets eliminated. Although it had been a challenge, I'd managed to stay on schedule. And now I've arrived at my destination. I look forward to a brief sojourn at this old, abandoned farm house where I can rest. Relax. And wait._

_ The door opens slowly and I reach for my gun. I'm aware that someone will be meeting me here, probably one of the other pilots. Still, it would be the height of stupidity for me to let my guard down now, so close to the promised refuge._

_ "Trowa?"_

_ My hand drops back to my side, gun still tucked away. "Quatre."_

_ The young man offers me a smile and it seems twice as brilliant as the last time I'd seen him. I suppose memories really do fade. I inquire, "How have you been?"_

_ "Fine. Fine. And you, Trowa?"_

_ I nod._

_ "You look exhausted."_

_ I blink and take a moment to study my acquaintance more closely. "You as well," I observe._

_ Quatre offers a rueful smile in reply._

_ "What is it?" I ask._

_ His frown is one of thought and concern. "It's Duo. He was supposed to show up four days ago."_

_ I don't ask him if he's been monitoring the emergency frequencies or our enemy's communications. I simply look at him. He somehow knows what I would say._

_ Quatre shakes his head. "Nothing. I can't find anything on where he might be."_

_ "He'll show up."_

_ Quatre doesn't look convinced. "After you get some rest, would you mind…?"_

_ I nod. "I'll help you look for him."_

**...**

_ **I spend two days** scouring the air waves and hacking into communication satellites but there's no sign of Duo. I watch Quatre's smile diminish with every dead end we encounter. I can clearly sense Quatre's acute worry but can think of nothing of substance to offer him by way of encouragement._

_ Approximately seventy-two hours after my arrival, I am settling into bed at some insanely late hour—had just closed my eyes—when I hear it: the door opening and Quatre's shout. I throw myself off of the musty cot and rush to the front of the house in time to see Quatre gathering a limp form into his arms._

_ "Duo? Duo! Are you all right? Duo!"_

_ And it is Duo. Unconscious but apparently otherwise uninjured. I kneel down beside Quatre and offer my assistance. Between the two of us, we manage to maneuver Duo Maxwell into the house and into the nearest room, which happens to be mine._

**...**

_ **I'd never... realized...** before this moment._

_ Standing in the doorway, I watch Quatre's unsuccessful attempts to persuade our unconscious comrade to take a sip of water. The liquid trickles out of the corner of Duo's mouth and Quatre sighs, putting a wealth of concern and frustration into that one breath._

_ It's been over ten hours. No response from Duo. I step into the room holding the cup of broth I'd just heated up. I place the soup on the bedside table and gently remove the cup of water from Quatre's fingers._

_ "Sit behind him," I direct. "Hold him up." Cup of water and spoon in one hand, I sink down onto the bed as well. Quatre does as I suggest and the two of us begin the slow process of re-hydrating him. I carefully spoon the water into his mouth until he swallows reflexively. It takes most of the afternoon but the two of us manage to get both the water and the soup into him._

_ Task accomplished, I have no real reason to stay. Quatre will look after Duo. But then, when I should have gotten up and returned the few dishes we'd used to the kitchen, I don't. I set them down by my feet and look over my shoulder at the picture the two of them make on my bed as Duo sleeps leaning into Quatre's chest. I stare at the hand Quatre holds against the crown of Duo's head, pressing our unconscious comrade back against his shoulder. The other hand rests on Duo's limp fingers. I stare. And I... feel. I..._

_ "Trowa?"_

_ I look up, into Quatre's eyes. I see the realization in his gaze. He's caught me. I have no words to express what can only be felt. Slowly, my hand reaches out to his. I settle my palm over Quatre's hand and, consequently, Duo's beneath it. I am not sure if my meager attempt at reassurance is successful._

_ Quatre diverts his gaze to Duo._

_ As do I._

_ I reach out to him with my free hand, trailing my fingertips gently over his cheek and jaw. I do not know if he can feel it; he remains unconscious. And then I hear myself… in a voice only I am aware of… whispering to him. To Duo._

_ I whisper that I want him to wake up. I want him to see what's in my eyes because I cannot say this. I cannot find words to describe this emotion that I cannot ignore. For him._

_ Duo._

**...**

**Trowa blinks** open his eyes and frowns slightly at the ceiling, remembering. Had he been dreaming? But no, all of Trowa's dreams are dark, violent, bloody. For a long moment, he remains unmoving and confused. He glances around the room. He's in a trailer. At the circus. Not on assignment.

So he _had_ been dreaming.

He pulls in a deep breath and releases it as he takes note of the calendar opposite him. Even in the dim light he can see the date. February, A.C. 198.

Trowa's eyes close once again.

Odd. He'd been dreaming of the past, of the time when he'd fought in the war with the others, but the actual events that he'd experienced in the dream had never really happened. And the emotions he'd felt... _That_ hadn't happened, either.

He's never had a dream like this one.

He wonders about it.

His mind buzzes with questions. Why had he dreamed of something that had never happened? Why hadn't the dream been filled with screams and blood and ammunition explosions like all the others? Why had the Trowa in the dream felt so strongly? And why had he felt that way toward Duo?

The last question is, perhaps, the most perplexing. Trowa only knows Duo in passing. And most of those rare instances when the two of them had met could not, even remotely, be considered pleasant. Perhaps the only moment they'd shared that had been, for lack of a better word, friendly had been when Trowa, Duo, and Quatre had destroyed their Gundams together after the battle against Dekim Barton's forces. [1]

Trowa pauses. The last time he'd seen any of the pilots had been then. And he'd been with Duo and Quatre. [2] Maybe this explains the dream.

But does it?

He sighs in perfect silence. Since when do all dreams require an explanation?

He knows they don't. But he also knows that most of his dreams stem from regret and guilt.

Had he dreamt of Duo because he regretted much of what he'd done to him during the war? [3] Did he feel guilty because he'd never taken the opportunity to get to know him?

He tells himself to simply forget about it.

But as he attempts to relax back into sleep once more, the image of Duo, unconscious without an apparent cause, haunts him.

**End of Chapter 1**

[1] From "Endless Waltz."

[2] From "Endless Waltz."

[3] What few memories Duo and Trowa do share aren't necessarily pleasant. Duo and Trowa's interaction during the series: Trowa and Duo fight when they first meet at New Edwards; Trowa destroys Deathscythe to get hired by Oz; Trowa is an officer with Oz when Duo is captured the second time; Trowa punches Duo in order to pass on information about Duo and Wufei's Gundams; Duo is the first to find a very confused and frightened Trowa after he'd lost his memory; On _Peace Million_, Trowa and Duo play a game of chess and later Duo disagrees with Trowa about Heero's ability to rescue Relena from _Libra_ without help. Their interaction during "Endless Waltz": Duo fights Trowa on X18999 and Trowa almost blows him up; Trowa throws Duo in a detention cell; Duo boards the shuttle Trowa is using only to find out Trowa hadn't been waiting for him at all; After destroying their Gundams, Duo and Quatre suggest that Trowa keep his name.****


	2. Chapter 2: Questions

**From The Manwell:** A BIG "Thanks!" to my Chapter 1 reviewers! I really appreciate the feedback. And now on to Chapter 2...

**...**

**Shinigami Sleeps**

**Chapter 2: Questions**

**"Hello, Quatre.** I apologize if my call is coming at a bad time."

The young man on the vid screen grins. "Trowa! It's great to hear from you! No, this isn't a bad time at all! How are you?"

"Fine," he replies. "And you?"

"Great." He sighs happily. "I'm really glad you called. I should have been keeping in touch with you..."

"You're very busy," Trowa acknowledges.

Quatre doesn't deny it. "Are you still with the circus?"

Trowa nods.

"How is Cathy?"

"She's doing well."

"That's good to hear."

Trowa takes a breath. "Have you heard from the others?"

Quatre nods. "Yes, let's see... Wufei is with the Preventers now, working with Sally Po. Duo's running a salvage yard with a friend of his in the L2 area. But I haven't heard from Heero." He looks hopefully at Trowa.

Trowa shakes his head. "I haven't heard from him, either. But I'm sure he's around."

Quatre agrees. "So, um, why the call, Trowa? I mean, not that I didn't want to hear from you, because I do, it's just... you know..."

Trowa nods. "We said we'd stay in touch and it's been over a year. I suppose I was just curious."

Quatre smiles. "Do you have my email address?"

"Yes."

"If you know the circus's schedule, could you send it to me? Maybe our paths will cross again in the future..."

"It would be nice to see you again."

"I've missed you, Trowa."

"It's been awhile." He pauses. "I'll send you our schedule."

"Thanks." Quatre's brow furrows as Trowa hesitates. "What is it?"

"I... was wondering. When exactly did you last hear from Wufei and Duo?"

**...**

**"Chang Wufei speaking."******

"Wufei, it's Trowa. Am I calling at a bad time?"

Wufei looks up from the mound of paperwork on his desk and at the vid screen. "Ah, hello. It's been a long time. How have you been, Barton?"

"Fine. Yourself?"

Wufei's lips pull into a slight smirk. "I can distantly recall a time when I had nothing to do."

"They just want to keep you from starting any trouble," Trowa replies.

Wufei chuckles. "I think you might be correct in that."

"I don't mean to take up too much of your time, so I'll get to the point."

Wufei nods, appreciating the gesture.

"Have you heard from the others?"

"Quatre and I spoke on New Year's."

"No one else?"

Wufei shakes his head. "Is something wrong?"

Pause. "No. I was just wondering." Again, Trowa hesitates.

"About what, Barton?"

The other man considers his words. "I heard Duo was in the L2 area, running a salvage yard with a friend. Do you know anything about that?"

Wufei shakes his head. "No. Who told you that?"

"Quatre. Apparently, they spoke about six months ago."

Eyes narrowed in speculation, Wufei inquires, "Do you think something's happened to him?"

"I'm not sure. Do you remember the girl who brought Duo information on Libra? Right before the last battle?"

"Yes."

"Her name is Hilde Schbeiker. The salvage yard was owned by her family until a few months ago."

Wufei arcs a brow in silent question.

"It's been sold." Pause. "Wufei, may I ask you for a favor?"

"Of course."

"With the Preventer resources at your disposal, I was hoping you could locate her."

Wufei frowns. "Are you looking for Maxwell or this woman?"

Trowa tells him, "I'm looking for Duo. I'm hoping Hilde will know where he is."

"I could save you the trouble and simply find Maxwell."

One corner of Trowa's mouth lifts into something that could be an almost-smile. "After two years, Wufei, you should know that nothing is 'simple' when it involves Duo Maxwell."

**...**

**Trowa disconnects** the call and stares down at the scrap of paper he'd jotted the number on. It had taken Wufei less than a day to locate Hilde Schbeiker. And although he hadn't said anything, Trowa suspects he's also looking for Duo. It's not that Trowa doubts Wufei's abilities or the Preventer resources. It's that Duo is excellent at anonymity. And while Trowa appreciates Wufei's efforts, he doubts they will reveal Duo's location. Where normal people leave paper trails in their wake, Duo leaves friends. Trowa suspects that if he locates Duo, it will be by word-of-mouth rather than electronic records.

He considers the series of numbers on the notebook page and takes a moment to wonder at his own actions. If he allows himself to think about it, what he's doing is ridiculous. He's trying to find an old acquaintance because of a dream he had about him. Trowa wonders why he's letting his subconscious's wanderings concern him. He's had worse dreams before and dealt with them. But this one... Perhaps it's because the dream had been so unusual.

Trowa shakes his head and checks the clock, calculating the time difference, then dials the number. After a few seconds, it connects.

"Hello?"

"Hello. Is this Hilde Schbeiker?"

"Yes."

"My name is Trowa. I knew Duo in the war—"

"Yes, of course. He spoke of you often."

Trowa's brows arc as he considers the friendly girl on the screen. _He did?_ "Have you heard from him?"

"Not since the business went under. What's up?"

Trowa shrugs. "Nothing urgent. I've just lost touch with him. Any idea where I might reach him?"

She hums thoughtfully. "He told me he was thinking about meeting up with an old friend... Howard, I think his name was."

"The Sweepers?" Trowa guesses.

"That's it!" she says.

"Thank you, Hilde. I'll try there."

"If you find him, will you tell him 'hello' for me?"

"Certainly." Pause. "When was the last time you heard from him?"

"Right before we walked away from the yard. God, that must have been... last December. I tried to get him to stick around for Christmas but he was all geared up for his trip to Earth to see Howard."

Trowa nods. "If he happens to call you, would you mind—"

"No worries, Trowa. I'll let him know you were looking for him."

"Thank you."

Shortly thereafter, Trowa closes the communication and dials the number for Information.

**...**

**"Yo! Howard!"**

The older man mutters as he pulls himself out of the engine. "What is it?"

The mechanic hovering in the office doorway shouts back, "Some guy on the vid looking for Duo!"

Howard sighs. "That kid is more trouble than he's worth," he grumbles with a frown. Still, his heart isn't in the words. Sure, Duo's got problems, but who doesn't? The older man shakes his head and snatches a rag from the tool box nearby. He calls out, "I'll be right in!"

Scrubbing the dirt and grease from his hands, Howard makes his way across the mechanic bay. When he enters the office, the fellow mechanic grabs some manuals and heads out the door, leaving Howard to deal with the caller in private. He closes the door, blocking out the clatter from the room beyond and slides into the chair behind the vid.

"This is Howard. How can I help you?"

"Hello. This is Trowa. Do you remember me from—"

"_Peace Million_! Sure, Trowa. How's it going?"

"All right. You?"

"Okay, I suppose. You looking for Duo?"

"Yeah."

"Anything the matter?"

"No. Not really. I just haven't heard from him in awhile."

"Hm. Well, you're a little late, Trowa."

"How late?"

Howard replies, "Two weeks, give or take a day."

"Did he say where he was heading?"

"Not specifically. Just that he was going to visit an old friend." Howard shifts in his chair, wondering how much more he should say.

"What else?" Trowa is quick to ask.

"Well... It's just that he hadn't been sleeping well. Nightmares. Woke up a couple of guys in the rooms on either side of his. Looked like crap before he took off." Howard sighs. "I tried to convince him to stay, see somebody about it. But he said there was only one guy who'd understand."

"And he didn't mention a name."

"No, but I've got a guess or two."

"Go ahead."

"Well, I'd have to say that'd be Heero Yuy." At Trowa's mildly curious expression, Howard continues, "He was the only one Duo ever brought back here during the war." He shakes his head. "Then the kid used the parts from Deathscythe to get his own Gundam up and running overnight." Howard chuckles. "Oddly enough, Duo wasn't all that upset about it. Maybe it's just an old man's intuition, but I'd say Duo's gone to find Heero."

"I see. Do you know where Duo might have gone to look for him?"

"Nope. Sorry, Trowa."

Trowa nods. "Thank you, Howard."

"Hey, no problem. And if you find Duo, would you let him know that he's still got a job waiting for him here?"

"Of course."

The vid screen goes blank and Howard leans back in the grimy chair. He doesn't want to admit it, but he's worried. He'd never seen Duo look the way he had on the morning of his departure. And he wonders what, in this day and age of peace, could rattle the guy so much. Nothing—not battles, enemy capture, or space travel—had ever gotten to the God of Death.

Howard sighs and pushes himself to his feet. He has business waiting for him in the hangar. But as he opens the door, he glances at the dark vid screen. "Good luck, kid," he says before closing the door behind him on his way out.

**...**

**"Are you sure?"**

Trowa nods, placing a second pair of jeans in the small duffle bag.

Cathy runs a hand through her hair, looking worried. "Will you—"

"I'll keep in touch, Cathy."

She sighs, expression wry. "Am I that obvious?"

Trowa snorts.

She shakes her head at him. "Can you at least tell me why you're doing this?"

Folding two pairs of socks into the bag, he declines to comment.

Cathy continues, "I mean, can't Quatre hire someone? Isn't Wufei working for the Preventers now? Couldn't they—"

"Catherine."

She watches as Trowa turns toward her and gently brushes a lock of her hair back over her shoulder.

"I'm coming back."

She swallows. "I... I know."

He nods. "Good."

Cathy's gaze follows him as he turns back to his packing. "Can you... do you know how long you'll be gone?"

His gaze, briefly, meets hers. "As long as it takes."

She sighs heavily. "I was hoping you wouldn't say that."

"Then why not hope I find him soon?"

"Oh, trust me, I will."

Trowa frowns at her. "What's wrong, Cathy? During the war I would take off and you were fine with it."

With a shrug, she tells him, "I guess I've just gotten used to you hanging around. It seems like an... unnecessary risk."

He supposes he can understand that. It's more logical than his own reasoning. He's very aware that this quest had started with a dream. But having heard Howard's words and seen the concern on the man's face, Trowa can't ignore the possibility that something may, indeed, be wrong.

**...**

**Trowa pauses** in the gym doorway, watching the game. His search for Duo has led him here. A Boys and Girls' Center, one of the few in the L1 area. The basketball court is crowded with boys, five in jerseys and five in plain, white T-shirts, battling for the lead. Trowa would not have been surprised to see Duo playing ball or, considering the age of the players, coaching. But it is not Duo Trowa sees with a whistle around his neck.

It's Heero.

Quietly, Trowa sinks into the nearest bleacher seat. He has little doubt that Heero knows he's there. He glances briefly at the former pilot, taking in the still-messy dark hair, narrowed eyes, and crossed arms. It had surprised him a little to discover Heero's volunteer work with this colony's youth center. Not that he hadn't been surprised to find Heero's place of employment to be a small Mom-and-Pop computer repair shop. In truth, he hadn't really known what he'd been expecting.

The sound of the whistle rips through the gym, bringing the boys on the court to a halt. Breathing hard, they gather around their coach for a few words. And _only_ a few. Trowa listens to the familiar growl as Heero comments on the play. Each boy is assigned something to work on for next time before Heero dismisses them from practice.

The kids pound from the gym toward the snack bar in the cafeteria, leaving their uninvited observer and coach alone.

"Trowa."

Trowa nods. "Heero."

"What brings you here?" Heero asks, taking a seat beside Trowa.

"Duo."

Heero arcs a brow. "You missed him."

Trowa ignores the double meaning in those words. "How long ago?"

"Six days."

Trowa sighs.

Heero checks his watch. "You eat lunch yet?"

"No."

"Let's go, then. I know a place."

**...**

**"How'd you end up** coaching at the youth center?"

Heero glances up from his plate. "That would be—indirectly—Duo's fault."

Trowa's eyebrows rise along with his curiosity.

"Something he said during the war," Heero replies.

"You've got me really wondering now."

Heero smirks. "He was joking around, being annoying. I had work to do. Told him to shut the hell up."

Trowa takes a bite of his sandwich and glances up, urging Heero to continue the story.

"He came back at me. Said I was such an anti-social tight ass because I didn't think anyone could possibly understand what my life was like."

"And?"

Heero almost smiles. Voice expressionless, he says, "He was right. But then he said I couldn't understand what anyone else's life was like, either." Heero's eyes sparkle at the memory. "Duo got right in my face. 'You think you're the only one that hasn't got a past worth remembering? You gonna continue that fine tradition with the present, too?'"

Trowa reaches for his napkin. "Harsh."

"But true." Heero shrugs. "Got me thinking."

Trowa nods. "He's had that effect on Quatre as well."

"But not you."

He looks up at Heero. "I never really had the... opportunity to..."

"Be Maxwell-psychoanalyzed?" Heero supplies dryly.

Trowa's lips twitch. "I was going to say 'have my ass chewed.'"

Heero snorts. "Well, it's not too late. I suppose that's why you're looking for him?"

"Something like that."

"Hn." Heero takes a long sip of water.

"So, how'd Duo react to your time spent with the ankle biters?"

Heero chokes back a laugh. "They're junior high school students. Hardly ankle biters."

"And?"

With a short glare, Heero says, "He didn't have anything to say."

Trowa's eyebrows arc yet again.

"Duo had a lot on his mind."

He doesn't ask _what_ had been on Duo's mind, but Trowa does ask, "He still have a lot on his mind?"

"I would assume so."

Trowa's eyes narrow. "You didn't think to try to help him out when he came by?"

Heero looks up. "I've been where Duo is. He's the only one who can deal with it."

Sighing, Trowa leans back in his chair. "Any idea where he might be dealing?"

"Maybe."

Trowa drums his fingertips against the table. "Are you going to tell me?"

Heero reaches for the remains of his sandwich. He smirks. "Sure."

**End of Chapter 2**


	3. Chapter 3: Finding Duo

**From The Manwell: **Thank you, you lovely people, for reviewing. As per your requests, here's Chapter 3...

**Also:** Thanks to an anonymous reviewer, a wrong word instance has been corrected. Watch out for those homonyms, folks! Don't hesitate to let me know if you find something grammatically amiss in this story. After all, you'd tell someone if they had a bit of parsley stuck to their front teeth... wouldn't you??

**Shinigami Sleeps**

**Chapter 3: Finding Duo**

**Trowa pauses** at the spaceport entrance and examines the colony before him. He's never visited this particular post in the L2 sector before. Never had any reason to. There hadn't been anything here to draw him during the war and the colony itself has been in a recession for years, so without the promise of payment, the circus wouldn't have come.

He takes a good look at the shiny façade of Duo's home colony. The wounds of the war still run painfully deep here. Heero hadn't told him a lot, but he had mentioned that much. That and, apparently, Duo had gone to see Heero to share his unease with this frighteningly stable peace.

Trowa begins walking, seemingly without a destination in mind. He carefully recalls what little Heero had told him about Duo's brief visit. And it had been very brief indeed.

Duo's first night camping out on Heero's couch, he'd had a nightmare. A screaming-to-wake-the-dead-in-neighboring-colonies nightmare. Heero had been forced to hit his friend in order to wake him up. Trowa can imagine the scene. Can picture Duo, gasping and shivering from the power of the vision that had been assaulting him. Trowa pictures it with ease; he's had not a few of those dreams himself.

Then Heero had asked if Duo wanted to talk about it. Duo had refused. And Heero had told him that there was nothing to be done about them until Duo faced the source of his fears.

The next day, Duo had left.

Trowa feels a rush of irritation at Heero Yuy. Not all of them had been trained so well, been given the appropriate psychological coping mechanisms. Trowa almost sighs. While he admires Heero and trusts him with his life, there are many things the young man still doesn't understand.

Of course Duo had left. He'd gone to Heero looking for comfort and had found none.

Not that Duo would have ever come right out and said as much.

Heero's advice had not been inaccurate or harsh. But advice could have been given over a vid call. Heero should have recognized Duo's visit for the cry for help it had been.

_Perhaps I'm assuming too much._ Trowa ponders his train of thought. Perhaps it's not really that bad. Perhaps he's letting his own experiences influence his assessment of the situation too much. But then again...

Then again, at the precise moment Duo had been on a shuttle heading for this remote colony in L2, Trowa had been asleep on Earth. Dreaming... about Duo.

The dream still bothers him. Duo, silent and unconscious. Unresponsive and weak from an unexplained cause. Trowa's hand tightens around the straps of his duffle bag. The more he investigates, the more unsettled he becomes. At this point, he is not capable of turning around and pretending everything is all right. But he marvels at himself. He's amazed that one little, startling dream had been enough to place him on this path.

And he wonders... What is his _real_ motivation for finding Duo? He'd never considered the other youth a friend. Had never confided in him or been confided in. Had never known much about him at all. Had never felt the need to strengthen the bonds of their acquaintance-ship. Yet here he is, after a week of searching, traveling, and investigation.

He feels slightly embarrassed over this... obsession.

But the memory of the dream-Duo keeps him moving forward. He tells himself that he will not impose on the guy. He will merely locate him and keep an eye on him. Perhaps, if things look bad, he will approach him and offer...

Trowa's thoughts stall.

Offer him _what_, exactly?

_Whatever he needs,_ Trowa thinks automatically in reply.

He blinks. Where the hell had _that_ come from? Duo had never done anything to warrant such a strong response from Trowa. He neither owed the former pilot a favor nor had felt any inclination to be his friend.

But, no. That's not entirely true...

Trowa shakes his head ever so slightly. It's time to stop that line of thinking. He's here because, for whatever reason, he'd experienced something that had made him believe Duo needed help. And after all of the times Trowa had hurt him during the war, this is the least he can do.

He stops in several seedy-looking hotels and moderately-priced youth hostels, showing a photograph of Duo and asking if anyone has seen him. He makes no progress. No one recognizes him.

Frustrated and nursing a minor headache, Trowa concedes that perhaps he's going to have to show the photo around at convenience stores. He doesn't want to. There are too many stores with at least three shifts of employees.

This could take a while.

He's wandering through a particularly run-down part of the colony when something catches his eye. A memorial. He stares at it for a long moment, then at the ruins beyond. His gaze returns to the slab that had once been an east wall and reads the bronze plaque.

_Former site of the Maxwell Church._

_ Destroyed in A.C. 188 during an __Alliance__ attack against a rebel group taking refuge there. Two-hundred and forty-five souls were lost._ [4]

Trowa frowns at the plaque. The Maxwell Church. Duo _Maxwell._ Duo wearing his priest's garb all during the war...

_Duo survived..._

It's not much, but it is a clue. He re-examines the site, looking for any evidence of someone's recent passing. But he sees no flowers laid out in memorial. He walks the site carefully, in a grid pattern so that he misses nothing. But there is nothing to find.

If Duo had come here since arriving on this colony, his presence had been as silent and illusive as a ghost's.

**...**

**"You seen this guy around?"**

The punk smoking a joint on the doorstep of the run-down apartment building squints at the picture held before him. He glances up at the tall, thin young man, automatically taking note of anything remotely valuable about his person. And, automatically, he dismisses the guy. There's nothing on him worth stealing or haggling over. But, hey, he's bored. So he asks, "Who wants to know?"

"An old friend," the stranger replies.

Taking a long drag, the kid re-evaluates his inquisitor. "That's quite the hair style you've got there, man."

The stranger repeats, his one visible green eye never wavering from his quarry. "Have you seen him?"

Too stoned to be concerned by the young man's intense stare, the kid says, "Why you looking for him?"

"He owes me a favor."

"And if I tell you, then you'll owe _me_ a favor." The kid smirks, particularly proud of his comeback.

The stranger nods.

The kid perks up. The dude's serious. And his next words confirm it.

"If you help me find him, I will owe you a favor."

The guy must be pretty desperate. Bargaining time. "I'll tell you what, maybe you could just give me some sort of token in appreciation and we'll just call it even."

The man's green eye narrows. The kid can only assume the second, hidden beneath the guy's long bangs, does the same. "How much?"

Swallowing back a smile and adopting a speculative air, the kid leans back against the steps. _Man, can you say DESPERATE?_ "Fifty creds."

For a long moment, the man says nothing. He simply stares at the kid on the steps, evaluating. And, despite his extensive experience in bartering on the street and the pleasant buzz of the joint smoldering between his fingers, the punk begins to feel a little nervous. He imagines, crazily, that the green-eyed stranger can see right through him, right down to his soul, and is weighing his worth. He's rather proud of the fact that he doesn't fidget, just presses the home-rolled joint to his lips and inhales slowly.

Then, finally: "I have to actually see him."

Smelling a victory, the punk shrugs. "Yeah, sure. No problem."

There's a long pause. "Then let's go."

The kid grins and pats the steps next to him. "Have a seat, my man. No need to go anywhere."

The man stares for a long moment.

With a sigh, the kid nods behind him to the battered clock that hangs in the apartment foyer beyond the dingy glass door. "If he sticks with his routine, he'll be by in about a half an hour."

"Which direction does he come from?"

The kid nods up the street, behind the stranger. The young man's eyes leave him and rove slowly over his surroundings once more. After taking stock of the area, he reluctantly takes a seat beside the kid on the steps, sitting with his back to the railing.

"Have you ever spoken to him?"

"Nah. The guy looks like he's totally off in la-la land if you get what I mean."

"Then don't try to get his attention."

"Sure thing."

So they wait. The kid sends speculative glances in the stranger's direction more than once. He wonders just what kind of "old friend" sits with his back to the street and tells him not to try to get the guy's attention. _An old friend that doesn't think he'll get a warm welcome, that's for sure._ Still, it's not the kid's problem. As long as he gets his fifty creds out of the deal...

A lone figure approaching with a weary, loping stride snags his attention. "He's early," the kid says, a little surprised.

The stranger doesn't turn around. "Just keep smoking."

The kid grins. He's starting to really like this guy. "You got it, man!"

And they wait. There's no sound of footsteps along the street but the man steadily approaches, his gaze turned inward and expression determined. The kid takes a close look at him and arcs a brow in silence. _That guy looks even worse than I remember,_ he muses, taking in the man's pallor, the dark bruises under his eyes, the limp, dull braid slapping against his back.

Eventually, he passes the apartment building. The stranger's eyes follow him as he progresses down the littered street.

"That's him, right?" the kid asks quietly.

The stranger nods. Without taking his eyes off the figure in the street, he pulls a handful of bills out of his pocket and presses them into the punk's hand. "Keep the change," he says, standing to follow.

The kid shakes his head at the guy. Some people are just so damn...

He stares down at the wad of money in his hand.

_Shit, that's a hell of a lot more than fifty creds!_

He hides a grin and squirrels the money quickly away on his person.

"Too bad I didn't get his name," the kid wonders aloud. "It sure was nice doing business with him..."

But when he looks back down the street to catch one last glimpse of him... he sees no one. He blinks for a minute and shakes his head.

"On the other hand, maybe I should just follow his advice and stick to smoking."

The kid grins. Today, life is good.

**...**

**Duo Maxwell stands** in front of the guard gates to an old Alliance base and stares. [5] From a discreet distance, Trowa watches the youth sway slightly where he stands, as if attempting to convince his stubborn feet to carry him the rest of the way. But he doesn't move. He just sways and stares.

Trowa wonders if this is the base responsible for the attack on the Maxwell Church. He spares the area a glance, taking note of the rubble that had once been office buildings and motor pool hangars. Whatever this place had instigated in the past, it surely isn't in any condition to do so now. It is, obviously, abandoned.

Lost in whatever memory or vision that has overwhelmed him, Duo doesn't move for the better part of an hour. Trowa debates approaching him. He quickly discards the option of disrupting this moment. It's too personal. Too painful. Duo won't welcome his presence right now. But perhaps later... on more neutral territory...

With a shudder that, even thirty paces away, Trowa can clearly see, Duo pivots almost violently on his heel. He stalks down the street and takes a left at the corner. Head down, hands in his pockets, he nearly runs away from the ruins.

Trowa follows.

Several blocks pass without interruption in either Duo's speed or temperament. It's only a red light and a busy street that forces Duo to pause in his flight. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, eager to be moving on and keeps his gaze fixed steadfastly ahead. Trowa doesn't bother paying attention to anything other than Duo, which is why when Duo's body language mysteriously changes from coiled-spring to defeated-exhaustion, he has to hunt for the external cause, if there is one. He looks past Duo's shoulder and across the street where he sees a young boy in dusty jeans and a badly faded jacket with a grungy basketball tucked under his arm.

Expression sober, Trowa experiences a peculiar tightness in his chest as he realizes Duo's just been reminded of Heero. And Heero's new life. And Heero's advice. And the fact that he's alone.

For the first time in his known memory, Trowa wishes he'd punched Heero Yuy in the jaw two days ago when he'd had the chance.

**...**

**He times it perfectly.** Just as Duo emerges from the convenience store, supplies cradled in his arms, Trowa steps off the sidewalk and reaches for the door.

Their bodies crash together and the paper bag crunches between them. Trowa drops his duffle bag and reaches up to steady both Duo and his groceries. It also gives Trowa the opportunity to glance down into the sack.

He has just enough time to observe a jar of something that is probably peanut butter, a loaf of bread, a jug of water, and a fifth of whiskey.

"I'm sorry..." he begins. And then, pretending to take a closer look at the person behind the paper bag, says, "Duo?"

Duo, startled first by the collision then by a very familiar face, gapes. "Trowa? What the hell are you doing here?"

Trowa arcs a brow. "Shopping?"

They step away from each other, allowing the door to close behind them.

"No, I meant what are you doing in L2?"

Trowa scoops up his duffle bag. "I heard there were some jobs in construction out this way..."

It's a lie. But, luckily, Trowa's never felt Duo's almost manic compulsion to avoid falsehoods. [6]

"What happened with the circus?"

He shrugs.

Duo doesn't press. "Well, hell. It's good to see you again."

Trowa watches Duo for any signs of hesitancy. But Duo's exclamation appears to be genuine. He nods. "It's been a long time."

"Yeah..." For a moment, Duo looks almost sad, but then he takes in Trowa's wrinkled clothes and duffle bag clutched in his hand. "You look like you just got off the shuttle."

Trowa forces his mouth into a wry grin. "That might be because I just did?" _Another lie..._

Duo chuckles. He doesn't remember Trowa having a sense of humor. If possible, that's an even more pleasant surprise than actually seeing a familiar face. Growing serious once again, he considers his acquaintance with curiosity. "Man, it's almost creepy running into you like this."

"Literally," Trowa comments in agreement.

Duo shifts nervously, unsure of what to say next.

Trowa silently draws a breath and implements the next phase of his plan. "Duo, I know it's been a long time and I have no right to ask but..."

He has Duo's full attention now. Depending on what reaction he can read from the other man, he'll choose from a variety of pre-determined requests and half-truths.

Duo presses, looking intrigued and anxious and... hopeful, "But?"

That decides it. Trowa forges onward, attempting to sound a little awkward. It's hard to force the inflection into his voice. "I haven't got anyplace to stay yet and I can't really afford..."

Duo glances away and, for a moment, looks a bit uncomfortable. "Aw, hell, Tro. I'd offer to let you crash at my place but it's... a real dump..."

"That doesn't bother me," he assures him. "Unless you'd rather be alone..." He's taken a gamble using that last word. He hopes it will remind Duo of how very much he _doesn't_ want to be alone right now. He hopes it will make Duo desperate for company, even _his_ company.

Forcing a bright grin, Duo says enthusiastically, "Naw, man. I'd be great to have you over."

Trowa nods. "Thanks. I appreciate it." For another minute, they simply look at each other. When the silence between them begins to grow awkward, Trowa nods to the store at Duo's back. "I'll just get a few things, then?"

"Sure. I'll wait here for you."

With a nod, Trowa disappears into the shop. From behind the paper bag clutched to his chest, Duo lets out a long sigh. God, but he feels guilty. Seeing Trowa had been a miracle, a Godsend... And to have him ask if he could stay with Duo...

He admits that he doesn't want to be alone right now. But what is he going to say in defense of his lodgings? And how will he explain the nightmares? He hugs the groceries closer to him in an effort to suppress a shiver.

_I'm such a selfish bastard._

He doesn't want to be alone, but he doesn't want anyone to know, either.

_If I were smart, I'd be high-tailing it out of here while I still can._

But, to his eternal shame, he remains right where he is. If he's lucky, his current place of residence will sufficiently freak Trowa out. And if not that, then perhaps the nightmares will do the job...

Duo closes his eyes, remembering the looks of pity from the other Sweepers, the cool, detached evaluation in Heero's eyes... It mortifies him to know that they'd all either seen or heard him at his absolute worst. They'd taken a good long look at him and had sent him away. Oh, they hadn't been mean about it or anything. But still... they'd made it quite clear that he couldn't stay there.

_What's so wrong with wanting a little company?_ he demands of himself.

And himself answers, _Because it's not just company that you want._

Duo bows his head in defeat. _Shit._

"Duo?"

He looks up with a small jolt. Trowa gazes at him with just a smidgeon of concern in his normally passive expression. Duo almost gasps as that look provokes a clutching pain in his chest. Dear God, but he wants someone to care...

Another grin. Another enthusiastic pose. Another mask. "Change your mind?"

Trowa considers him for a moment, his expression softening barely. "Of course not."

"Cool. Then, follow me. The horrors await."

Duo forces himself remain nonchalant, but in truth, he almost shudders uncontrollably at his uncanny choice of words.

**End of Chapter 3**

[4] From "Gundam Wing: Episode Zero" Manga.

[5] In "Gundam Wing: Episode Zero," there's an Alliance military base on Duo's home colony which he and his gang attempted to steal from.

[6] Duo's motto during the series: "I may run and hide but I never lie. That's me in a nutshell."


	4. Chapter 4: Disrupting the Cycle

**Shinigami Sleeps**

**Chapter 4: Disrupting the Cycle**

**Trowa opens his eyes,** but just barely. For a long moment, he studies the shadowed, cracked ceiling above him through his lashes. With an iron grip on his respiration, he attempts to recall where he is...

L2.

With Duo.

_Ah yes..._

He listens to the soft, just discernable sounds in the room, recalling the trek to Duo's place. He remembers Duo's warning to stick to the shadows as they'd turned down one grimy street and then another, their path becoming progressively worse. Businesses had given way to low-income apartments which had given way to boarded-up houses... like this one. The sign on the door had warned of both the building's dubious structural integrity and the possibility of legal action being taken against anyone caught trespassing. They had slipped in through the back.

Trowa frowns faintly as he adds this new piece to the strange puzzle he's discovered. The house is blocks away from any legitimate tenants. In fact, the entire neighborhood had been condemned by the looks of things.

_So Duo is aware of his nightmares. And he doesn't want anyone to find out about them._

But if that truly is the case then...

_ ...then why did he agree to let me stay?_

He shifts on the army surplus sleeping bag he'd picked up that afternoon before following Duo back here. His gaze moves over the room, noting the small, battery powered heater and hotplate which is the only other thing in the room aside from Trowa's sleeping bag and Duo's.

_Duo..._

Trowa leans up on one elbow, squinting through the inky darkness. He nearly holds his breath as he watches and listens...

A slight rustle. A weak moan bitten off in mid-breath.

Duo is dreaming.

In complete silence, Trowa slides out of bed and crosses the short distance to kneel at Duo's side. Being so much closer, he can see the frown pulling at the young man's brows, can hear his restless movements, can smell the sharp odor of fear.

A nightmare.

Trowa hesitates.

Duo's lips part, moving slightly as if attempting to form words. From within the sleeping bag, a calloused hand emerges, pushes at the down-filled fabric defensively. Trowa draws a deep breath and hopes he doesn't aggravate Duo's anxiety.

Gently, he gathers the exposed hand in his own, hooking this thumb around Duo's. It's a safety clasp, a climber's clasp. A warm presence calling one's partner back from a dangerous precipice.

As soon as Trowa's fingers wrap around the base of Duo's thumb and wrist, the young man quiets. Knowing that nothing is ever this easy, Trowa waits and watches. Sure enough, after a long moment, a second choked-off noise escapes from Duo's throat. Trowa's sharp gaze roves over the sleeping youth, noting the continued tension.

Trowa is aware that nightmares begin as dreams. Dreams which put the sleeper on guard, causing tension. And the mind reacts to the increased tension, anticipating and creating something unpleasant. The unpleasant imagery generates more tension, which is again interpreted by the brain... It's an almost inevitable cycle. The key to stopping it, in Trowa's experience, is to remove the catalyst; that is, relieve the tension.

Slowly, gingerly, he reaches behind Duo's shoulders with his free hand and gently places his thumb and forefinger on either side of his neck. Using his knowledge of anatomy and physical therapy, he begins a firm but gentle massage. As expected, Duo's muscles are taut with stress and Trowa settles himself more comfortably on the floor; he's going to be here for a while.

He keeps up the pressure, kneading the straining muscles. He listens to the sound of Duo's breathing and keeps his gaze trained on the young man's face. He has no interest in waking Duo and would prefer to avoid it. The other man had looked absolutely exhausted. Obviously, a good night's sleep has been an illusive luxury.

Trowa doesn't bother to try to keep track of the time as he attempts to settle Duo into a restful state. His fingers are aching before the tension begins to bleed away and the flesh beneath his touch becomes somewhat resilient. And then it's as if someone has flipped a switch. Duo completely relaxes and rolls over onto his side, dislodging the grip of Trowa's hand on his.

Carefully, Trowa withdraws his hands from the sleeping form. But he doesn't return to his bed. Not yet. He waits. He listens. Duo's breathing is slow and even. The creases across his forehead have disappeared. The only sounds coming from him are the occasional puffs of his breath being exhaled across the pillow.

Satisfied, Trowa retreats to his bed and joins Duo in getting a few more hours of rest.

**...**

**Slowly, Duo blinks open his eyes.** He rolls over for what seems like the hundredth time and settles in the warm cocoon of man-made fabric again. He doesn't want to wake up. It feels so damn _nice_ to just lay here in the dim fuzziness of almost-sleep. It feels like it's been for-fucking-_ever_ since he's just laid in bed until God knows how late...

Duo's eyes fly open.

_Christ, what the hell time is it?_

He flips onto his back and stares, disbelieving at the narrow beams of light sifting through the cracks in the boarded-up window.

_I... I actually slept? The whole night?_

A subtle movement on the other side of the small bedroom draws Duo's gaze. He feels a moment of shock upon seeing Trowa sitting back against the wall, already awake and dressed.

_He's... still here..._

Duo attempts to wrangle his disjointed thoughts into something resembling coherence.

_I must not have dreamed..._

Trowa looks pointedly at his watch. "Good... afternoon."

Duo stares at the guy in response to the softly spoken greeting. "Shit. Man, I _never_ sleep this late."

The corner of Trowa's mouth curves upward. "You must have needed the rest."

Sitting up, Duo scrubs his face with his palms, trying to kick start his brain. "I'll say..." He shakes his head before offering his roommate an apologetic grin. "You must be bored out of your gourd, Tro."

Trowa's reply consists of a one-shouldered shrug. "I only woke up a little while ago myself."

"Hmm. Jetlag's a bitch, huh?" Smothering a yawn, Duo stretches, curling his fingers toward the ceiling, then dropping his arms down at his sides again. "So, Tro. What's on your agenda for today?"

Duo reaches for his bag, scrounging around inside it with one hand while the other pulls his braid over his shoulder and slips the black elastic off of the end.

"A little job hunting maybe. You?"

Busy sorting out the mess that his hair had become overnight, Duo nods. "Yeah, I've been looking around. No luck yet. Haven't tried the construction crews, though." He pauses, considering. "I don't think the pay's gonna be all that great. As it is, they'll probably just want to pay us under the table on a day-by-day basis."

"That's fine with me."

"Yeah... Money's money." Duo quickly rebraids his hair and sniffs at his shirt. He hesitates for a moment, then shrugs. It's passable. "What time is it?"

"Almost one."

Duo grins. "Good. With any luck, we'll find a foreman or two who needs some help staying on schedule today..."

**...**

**"Well... So much **for that idea," Duo comments, expression both exhausted and wry.

Trowa glances in his direction as they stroll away from yet another foreman's trailer on yet another colony re-construction site. The last few hours feel as if they'd been caught in a time loop. Every employment venture they'd tried had received the same negative result.

"You'd think that _at least_ they could have used different lines." Duo shakes his head, recalling the eerily similar rejections that each site manager had deployed. Rubbing at a headache starting at his left temple, Duo grumbles, "They must learn that in engineering school. Rejection 101. Or something."

The corner of Trowa's mouth lifts at the thought. "They probably had to practice on each other in class to get it just right."

Duo throws his head back and barks out a laugh. In the middle of the sidewalk, he turns to Trowa, grasps the man's hand, looks deeply into his eyes, and says, "I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Barton, but I don't require anyone of your particular skills at this time."

The _other_ corner of Trowa's mouth twitches. "That was good," he replies quietly. "But the inflection's not quite right on 'terribly.'"

Dropping Trowa's hand, Duo snorts. "I'll work on it."

Trowa slides his hands into his jeans' pockets and continues down the street, keeping less of an eye on his surroundings and more covert attention directed toward his companion. Duo had seemed like his old self today: cracking jokes and sharing anecdotes of dubious origins. He hadn't even so much as looked in the direction of the Alliance base all day. Trowa considers this. The kid he'd met on the doorstep of that old, run-down apartment building had indicated that Duo's trip down that street is an established ritual. And yet, today, he hadn't seemed to miss it.

"I've got to make a call," Trowa says into the easy silence just before Duo would have turned to head back to the house.

"Yeah?" Duo asks unnecessarily.

Trowa nods. "Tag along and I'll buy you dinner."

Duo's grin is wide and very cocky. "Well, now. That all depends on who you're callin' and if I've gotta talk to 'em."

"Cathy," Trowa replies. "And 'no,' in that order."

"Hey, even better! I just hope you're up for washing dishes to pay for my meal 'cause I could eat a mobile suit hydraulic system."

"I'm not sure we'll be able to find you one of those around here."

Duo sighs in mock disappointment. "Probably not."

"You'll just have to find another way of getting your daily allowance of heavy metals."

They meander through the streets, an occasional comment—coming, usually, from Duo—passing between them. Coming abreast of one of the colony's cleaner malls, the pair head inside. While Trowa makes his call, Duo distracts himself by studying the notice board beside the restroom alcove. He reads several "Have you seen our pet?" posters as well as fliers from new businesses looking for clients. There are even a few "Help Wanted" ads. His dark eyes skim over the meager variety until one pulls a grin from him.

"What is it?" Trowa asks from beside him.

Duo taps the piece of paper. "I found you the perfect job, man."

Trowa reads the black type. "Hm. Interesting."

Eyes wide, Duo looks at him, _really_ looks at him. "Interesting?" he parrots, disbelieving.

Trowa nods.

"You think working in a pet store—cleaning gerbil cages all day and vacuuming up fish turds—would be _interesting?_"

Trowa arcs a brow. "Doesn't everybody?"

Duo snorts and shakes his head. "Dude, you are seriously creeping me out."

Trowa transfers his gaze from the bulletin board to Duo. In his typical, mellow voice, he intones, "It's always the quiet ones."

Duo chuckles. "You've got that right."

The two of them stare at the board for a moment longer, then Trowa locates an ad himself. "How about this one?"

Duo transfers his gaze to the corresponding square of yellow paper and reads:

_Help wanted! New church to be built in __Laurel__Heights__.__ Workers needed. Previous experience in construction a plus! If interested, please contact..._

"Reverend Jamesson?" Duo murmurs.

Beside him, Trowa's green eyes stay focused on Duo's face. He reads Duo's reaction with difficulty. There is definite tension there, a conflict in interests, but Trowa is at a loss as to exactly _why_ Duo is torn over this particular option. Duo continues to stare at the little piece of paper, as if willing it to tell him what he should do.

Trowa shifts and clears his throat softly. "It's just a thought. Come on, Duo. I promised to feed you."

_That_ gets Duo's attention. Although whether it had, specifically, been the mention of his name or the offer of sustenance, Trowa isn't sure.

Duo offers him an apologetic grin. "Aw, look man, you don't have to... I mean, I know you're short on cash..."

_Not that short, _he knows but he plays along. Trowa crosses his arms over his chest and concedes, "This one time it won't be a problem... as long as we both have water to drink and order the specials."

Grinning in earnest now, Duo says, "Deal. And next time, I buy."

Trowa nods. "I'll even let you pick the restaurant."

Duo pretends to swoon. "Oh, you're too good to me, Tro."

"Don't I know it."

Shaking off his impassioned confession, Duo gestures for Trowa to follow him out of the mall. "And it just so happens I know of this little place..."

**...**

**The billiard balls **break apart with a satisfying _crack!_ that resonates through the tiny pub. Trowa keeps his pool cue company and watches Duo work the table with ease. But then, after blasting mobile suits, infiltrating OZ bases, and sabotaging space stations, knocking a ball from one side of a table to the other isn't all that much of a challenge.

He glances around the room, noting that there are several patrons on this weekday evening. Which is probably why it's taking the single bartender so long to manage their dinners.

Duo finally misses his intended target and Trowa takes a turn at the table. He can't help but notice the way Duo's gaze follows him as he moves around the table, lines up the shot, and executes it. The way Duo's mouth curves just slightly upward with every ball Trowa sinks in the aforementioned and intended pocket.

Trowa leans over the worn, green felt and takes careful aim. This will be his fifth shot. And he knows he could make it. But... he hesitates. He thinks back to the shot Duo had missed. It hadn't been that difficult of an angle to manage. Not so different from the one Trowa's facing now. And, oddly enough, Trowa isn't really all that interested in sinking it. He suddenly decides that, despite the rules of pool, it's Duo's turn again.

He misses the shot.

Duo grins and re-chalks the end of his cue. "That angle gets you, too, huh?"

"Every time."

If either young man suspects the other of down playing their true abilities, neither says a thing. There are simply some things that friends don't talk about. And playing in order to prolong a game of pool rather than playing to win it, is one of them.

Duo wins the game, but neither really seems to notice. Trowa reaches in his pocket for a few more coins to restart the game when their dinners arrive. They retire their cues and settle in a booth accompanied by two glasses of ice water and two Thursday specials.

They eat in silence partly because the food is worth savoring and partly because Duo has something on his mind. Trowa leaves him to it, assuming Duo will say something if he feels the need.

And he does.

As they pull on their jackets and head out the door, Duo offers a friendly wave to the bartender and after that a serious expression to the street in front of him.

"Let's do it," he says.

Trowa glances at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

Duo takes a deep breath. "Let's call Reverend Jamesson and see if he needs help with that new church."

After a few steps, during which Duo doesn't appear to reconsider his decision, Trowa tells him, "All right."

"First thing in the morning," Duo continues. And Trowa has the impression that Duo isn't a hundred percent sure he won't change his mind about it.

"First thing in the morning," Trowa confirms.

Duo's shoulders relax marginally. "Cool."

They meander back to the abandoned house, taking their time. Although it hadn't been a particularly productive day, it hadn't turned out all that bad really.

**End of Chapter 4**


	5. Chapter 5: No Lies

**Shinigami Sleeps**

**Chapter 5: No Lies**

**Duo slowly lowers himself** onto his sleeping bag with a groan. _Man, I must be seriously out of shape..._ He throws an arm over his eyes and recalls the warm welcome they'd found at the site of Reverend Jamesson's new church in Laurel Heights. He and Trowa had met with the reverend and the rest of the crew in the morning and found themselves hired on the spot. That had happened shortly after eight a.m. that morning. And they'd stayed. Until eight p.m.

On the one hand, it had been nice to keep his mind occupied with monotonous, redundant things. Physical labor is great for that. But on the other, his back and shoulders are _sore._

"Roll over."

Duo lifts his arm and casts a wary glare at Trowa. "Huh?"

Trowa sinks down next to the sleeping bag and gestures for Duo to turn around. "Roll over," he repeats.

"How come?"

Patiently, Trowa explains, "You'll feel worse in the morning if you don't work the tension out of your back before you go to sleep."

"That a bit of acrobat wisdom?" Duo asks, complying.

Trowa corrects him, "Clowns."

Duo snorts, hugging the pillow under his chin. His eyes drift shut as Trowa's hands settle on his shoulders and begin the process of loosening Duo's muscles. He lets out a long sigh as just the right amount of pressure is applied. _Damn but he's good at this._

"You ever think about becoming a professional masseuse, Tro?"

"No."

Duo almost groans as Trowa's persistence forces the muscles on either side of Duo's spine to turn to jelly. "Why the hell _not?_"

"Hairy clients."

Burying his face in the pillow, Duo feels his entire body shake with laughter.

"Stop that. You're undoing all my progress."

Coming up for air, Duo glances over his shoulder. Still chuckling, he shakes his head at Trowa Barton, stoic ex-Gundam pilot... Check that. _Ex-_stoic ex-Gundam pilot. Smiling, Duo lowers his cheek to the pillow again musing over Trowa's recently liberated sense of humor.

"What's so funny?"

Duo doesn't hesitate. "You." He spares a second look at him. "I always figured you must have been off shooting shit when they were rationing out senses of humor."

Trowa snorts softly. "I was."

Duo arcs a brow in question.

Trowa explains the previous absence of his humor: "Layaway. Been making payments."

With a small grin, Duo shakes his head. "You're something else, man." And then Duo groans as Trowa's hands begin to work at the small of his back. "Oh, dude. Masseuse or not, I am so not sharing you with anyone else."

"We prefer the term 'massage therapist,'" Trowa counters dryly.

Duo rolls his eyes but he's too relaxed to do much more than that. They lapse into silence as Duo feels and Trowa works. Then, after a good many more appreciative groans from Duo, Trowa inquires, "How does you back feel now?"

Unable to work up the energy required to enunciate, Duo mutters, "Err merm mem merrr..."

Trowa nods. "You're welcome."

Duo snorts and a smirk works its way across his mouth. He briefly considers sitting up to untie his boots before squirming under the covers but that just requires too much energy and he'll be damned if he's gonna move _now..._

A touch at his ankle makes him pause. He reluctantly turns his head and sees Trowa kneeling at the foot of the sleeping bag. Duo watches, a little surprised, as Trowa unlaces his shoes, gently tugs them off of Duo's feet, and sets them aside.

Just before exhaustion drags Duo down into sleep, he has a fleeting thought. He wonders just who this guy sharing this condemned house with him really is, wonders about the real Trowa, wonders if he ever really knew him at all...

**...**

**Trowa allows himself **a moment to study his roommate, the young man who'd introduced himself as Duo_Franklin_ to the reverend today. Trowa settles down in his sleeping bag and considers the slumbering body across the way. He wonders if it's accurate to assume Duo had chosen a different last name because he'd felt 'Maxwell' would draw too much attention. Would invite all kinds of inferences and uncomfortable questions from colony residents familiar with the old church and its tragic ending. And he wonders if Duo had simply drawn the name 'Franklin' out of a hat, so to speak, or if there had been a reason for why he'd chosen to use _that_ name.

Not that he's one to judge, of course. The reverend and the rest of the crew think his name is Trowa Bloom. But then, he hadn't wanted them to make the connection between him and Gundam pilot 03. Trowa closes his eyes and forces his muscles to relax. Perhaps he's just being overly suspicious. Perhaps Duo had used a different name for the same reason Trowa had.

But still, there is the possibility that he hadn't.

Trowa tells himself to think about it later. He studies the steady rise and fall of Duo's chest. His fingertips feel strangely warm as he remembers the feel of Duo's taut muscles beneath them. Trowa frowns, remembering his gesture. Duo hadn't even complained about the muscle tenderness. Trowa had simply noticed the slight wince as Duo had laid down. So he'd offered to help.

His frown deepens when he realizes that he's never done that before. Never offered assistance when it hadn't been necessary or solicited. Never offered to touch someone who hadn't been injured or ill.

Trowa recalls each moment he'd shared with Duo. And he discovers that it had been... nice. It had felt...

Trowa's thoughts grind to a halt.

He had _felt..._

His jaw tenses. He's not sure if that's what he wants. He's not sure he wants to go where this journey is leading him. But then, he's not here for himself. He's here for Duo. To _help_ Duo. _That's_ why he's here.

For Duo.

**...**

**Straddling the spine** of the still skeletal roof, Duo leans away from securing the reinforcing brackets and stretches.

"Hm."

He slowly grins as only the barest twinge of an ache can be felt. Trowa had been right about taking care of his back before going to sleep. Duo can't stop a slightly goofy grin as he recalls the massage. No one had ever done anything like that for him before. It had been... _Nice,_ Duo decides. He takes a deep breath, getting ready to shimmy further down the roof to the next intersecting beam but pauses when he feels something slap against his shoe. Glancing down, he notices that his right boot laces are untied.

And of course, that reminds him of what had happened _after_ the massage. Unable to stop himself, Duo scans the site, searching for his new housemate. He catches a glimpse of him by the circular saw, measuring and marking off a virginal two-by-four.

He still recalls his last thought of the night. Still remembers Trowa's firm, careful touch as he'd removed Duo's boots. Still can't believe he's never seen this side of the guy before. After all, they'd fought in the same war... usually on the same side...

_I never had a clue._

So he'd never expected Trowa to be so... almost like...

_A friend._

God, but last night Duo had felt so... _taken care of._ He sighs. Apparently, there are depths to Trowa and even he, Duo Maxwell, hadn't sensed. He who prides himself on his astute judgment of character... It's beyond strange that he'd missed it.

But then this is a strange time. The conspicuous absence of his nightmares being among the _least _of...

Duo pauses in his thoughts and back tracks.

_No nightmares. Not since Trowa got here._

And Duo isn't sure what to think of that. He watches his friend work, examining his effortless grace, the shifting of his muscles beneath his skin. He hasn't had a dream strong enough to recall since Trowa had bumped into him at the convenience store. For a long moment, Duo tries to wrap his mind around this. He _should_ have dreamed that first night. He'd been tense, expecting it. But it hadn't happened.

And because it hadn't happened, Trowa had stayed.

Duo's expression darkens as he wonders how the guy will react when the inevitable _does_ happen. Could Duo stand it? To see pity reflected in those green eyes? Could he bear it if Trowa merely levels a flat stare on him and tells him to face his demons and be done with it? Could he get through _another_ polite rejection?

_No._

In spite of the surprisingly warm day, Duo shivers.

His days in Trowa's company are numbered.

Just as this thought comes to him, the youth in question looks up and meets Duo's gaze. For a moment, they simply stare at each other. Duo remembers the evening before. The camaraderie. The caring. He remembers and he wonders if Trowa's thoughts mirror his own.

Duo forces a smile and nods. Trowa inclines his head in return. Glancing away first, Duo pulls his leg up onto the nearest beam and ties his shoe. For a moment, he can still feel Trowa's piercing gaze focused on him. And not for the first time, he wishes he could read the guy's mind. Wishes he knew what would happen if he told him about the nightmares... about the truth...

Finally, Trowa gets back to work and Duo allows himself to watch him out of the corner of his eye. He thinks about this quiet, young man who had fought beside him in the war, who had done whatever the mission had required, even if that had meant betraying his comrades. Last night, just before sleep had claimed him, Duo had experienced an epiphany: he hadn't known Trowa Barton very well at all. He'd trusted the guy with his life and yet he knows almost nothing at all about him.

And now here he is: living in the same run-down house, working on the same construction site, having chats and swapping one-liners with someone he barely knows... but wants to.

Duo tells himself this is only going to hurt in the end. Tells himself it's better to start distancing himself now. Heero had been right; no one can help Duo except Duo. But he knows that when quitting time comes, he'll be walking home with Trowa. And perhaps it's pure selfishness, pure weakness, but Duo is utterly relieved that he won't be alone. At least not for one more night.

**...**

**"Duo?**** What are you doing?"**

Duo grins and lifts the unopened fifth of whiskey for Trowa to clearly see it. "What does it look like I'm doing?" he counters, attacking the cap and twisting it off.****

Trowa arcs a brow. "It looks like you're planning on drinking yourself stupid."

With chuckle, Duo sets aside the bottle and reaches for a small bag. It's a recently acquired purchase, actually. Something he'd decided is necessary for this evening. He lifts out a small pack of plastic cups and tosses one at Trowa. "Well, Tro, you're half right."

Trowa looks from the cup he'd reflexively caught to Duo, to the bottle, to the cup in his hands, and back to Duo again. "And what makes you think I'll go along with this?"

Duo's grin gets, impossibly, wider. He pulls his second purchase out of the bag: a deck of playing cards. "Seeing as how we're off tomorrow, I figured we could hang out and... you know..."

"Get schnockered?"

Duo's laughter is a combination of snorts and chuckles. "Yeah. _'Schnockered.'"_

Trowa doesn't look very enthusiastic. So Duo reins in his humor and attempts to sweeten the deal.

"Look, Tro. You don't have to drink if you don't want to. Actually, I wasn't planning on having much myself."

Trowa sits down on his sleeping bag and wordlessly watches Duo shuffle the cards.

"I was kind of thinking that, um, we don't know each other all that well. Especially considering we, like, fought together and all that. So, how about a friendly game of cards? The winner gets to ask the loser anything he wants. And the loser can either answer honestly or take a drink. What do you say?"

A long moment passes before Trowa says, "The loser gets to deal the next hand."

Duo nods. "Okay."

Reluctantly, Trowa reaches for the whiskey and pours a shot into his cup. "What's the game?"

"Poker."

"Poker."

The first hand passes in a somewhat uncomfortable silence. And, much to Trowa's surprise, he wins. He takes a moment to consider Duo as the other youth shuffles the cards for the next hand. He hadn't expected to win.

Finally, Trowa says, "What's the story behind your name?"

Duo blinks. Obviously he'd been expecting something different. Very different. None of the pilots had ever expressed a curiosity in Duo's debatably odd name.

"Uh..."

Trowa waits and wonders if Duo's going to opt to drink rather than answer. But Trowa's mildly surprised by Duo's reluctant decision.

"My name... Well, when I was really young, there was this older kid, named Solo, who kinda took care of me and a few other street kids. After he died I decided to call myself Duo. And, um, Maxwell is from the church that took me in... for a while." [7]

Trowa nods.

Cheeks slightly red, Duo deals the cards.

Trowa wins again.

Duo looks decidedly nervous.

The corner of Trowa's mouth twitches and he pushes his second question aside in favor of lightening the mood. "Have you ever cleaned gerbil cages or vacuumed up fish turds?"

For a moment, Duo just looks at him. Then the words seem to penetrate his brain and he snickers. "Um, no. No, I haven't."

"That's odd," Trowa observes. "You spoke with such authority on the subject."

"A vivid imagination?" Duo offers, grinning.

Trowa arcs a brow at him.

Duo slouches back a bit, relaxing into the exchange. "But, hey, if it makes you feel better, I really _can't _see you working in a pet store."

"Why not?"

"Too domesticated. Not enough challenge." Trowa appears unmoved by this line of reasoning, so Duo clarifies, "Nothing poisonous."

Trowa snorts. "Yeah, that would take the fun out of things."

Duo sorts out the next hand and manages to win this one.

"I..." He trails off as a dozen questions come to him at once. He settles on, "Why'd you leave the circus?"

And to Duo's complete astonishment, Trowa picks up his cup of whiskey. He looks down into its depths for a long moment, debating. Duo's about to apologize for the question when Trowa releases a breath and tells him, "There were some things I had to do. And I couldn't do them at the circus."

Evasive? Yes. The truth? Probably. The entire story? Hardly. But Duo doesn't persist in that line of questioning. As Trowa shuffles, Duo asks, "You miss it?"

"Sometimes."

"You think you'll go back someday?"

"Perhaps. Someday."

The evening slowly deepens into night and the game continues uninterrupted. They discuss a wide range of topics, including hobbies they've never tried but always wanted to. Duo confesses to a fascination with surfing and Trowa to shark diving.

"What is it with you and predators?" Duo inquires.

Trowa opens his mouth to offer something flippant, but shuts it again. He says, "I grew up among mercenaries. My first memories were of being a soldier. People kill for greed or ideals or power. Animals just... do what they have to. And in killing, they uphold the balance of nature rather than destroy it." [8]

Duo is silent for a long moment. "Do you ever think about the war in those terms? That the Gundams... balanced rather than destroyed?"

For nearly a full minute, there is no response. Then Trowa looks up and confides, "I try."

They've long since lost track of whose turn it is, but neither suggests a diversion from their current conversation.

"Trowa..."

"Hm?"

"Did you ever imagine we'd be seeing each other again, much less be hanging out together?"

Trowa almost smiles. "No. I didn't."

"Me either." Duo sighs. "Damn but running into you surprised me."

Trowa says nothing.

The odd silence prompts Duo to ask, "You were surprised, too, right?"

He opens his mouth to reply. To lie. But at the last possible moment remembers the rules. Honesty or a drink. His fingers tap against the side of the plastic vessel at his knee. Neither of them has indulged in the liquor tonight. Neither of them has felt the need. He stares into the amber liquid and comes to a decision.

At Trowa's silence, Duo glances up and watches with wide eyes as Trowa lifts the cup to his lips and drains it.

**End of Chapter 5**

[7] The existence of "Solo" is, I suppose, a commonly known fact among Gundam Wing fans although I haven't read or seen anything on Solo from official sources, myself. The Maxwell Church is, of course, from the "Episode Zero" manga.

[8] Trowa's past as a mercenary is detailed in the "Episode Zero" manga.


	6. Chapter 6: Magic

**From The Manwell:** Thank you so much for reviewing, people! It's the highlight of my day to know this story has inspired you to take the time to share your thoughts.

**...**

**Shinigami Sleeps**

**Chapter 6: Magic**

**"Hey, Duo!"**

Duo leans over the edge of the roof and peers down. "Yeah, Jack?"

"Since there's a structural inspection tomorrow morning, the boys were thinking about going out tonight. You interested?"

Duo considers the offer. With the inspection happening during the first half of the day, they won't be able to get back to work until after lunch. It's a perfect opportunity to stay out late, even if it is a Wednesday night. "Yeah, maybe. You asked Tro yet?"

"Naw, thought you'd do the honors."

"Sure thing. We'll get back to you after break."

"Sounds good."

Duo checks his watch before turning back to securing the sheet of synthetic plywood in place. He forces himself to think of nothing except the monotonous routine involved with driving the screws into the beams beneath. Just like he's forced himself not to think too hard on Trowa's silent refusal to answer a seemingly simple question last Saturday night.

Another fifteen minutes later and Duo stands, task completed. He crosses the other sections of secured plywood and swings down the ladder. He'd seen Trowa working on the west wall earlier, so he heads around the building in that direction. He pauses at the corner, assessing the situation. This is one habit from the war and his training that will never become obsolete. A brief survey of the area assures Duo that he isn't interrupting any delicate operations so he steps forward.

"Want a hand with that?" He gestures to the board Trowa is both leaning on to hold in place and driving nails into.

Trowa nods and steps away as Duo presses the slab against the studs.

"You feel like having lunch after you're through here?"

"Sure."

Duo holds the board and, with nothing else to preoccupy him, he flashes back to that late-night-let's-get-to-know-each-other card game. Truth or drink.

He'd asked Trowa if he'd been just as surprised to run into Duo at that convenience store as Duo had been. But he hadn't answered. He'd taken a drink instead.

Duo fights to keep his expression neutral as he ponders the potential meanings of that gesture. The most obvious one being that the question had been so blatantly obvious Trowa had chosen not to respond and had at the same moment, decided to give the whiskey a try. Duo had never said they _couldn't_ drink whenever they wanted to. Just that they absolutely _had to_ if they didn't want to answer a particular question.

Another option, one that's a great deal more controversial, is that Trowa hadn't answered because Trowa hadn't been surprised at all. Which would imply that Trowa had orchestrated their meeting... which would, in turn, imply that Trowa had known where Duo was... which could, but not necessarily, mean that Trowa had been looking for him.

But that doesn't make any sense. Why would Trowa be looking for _him?_ They'd never been more than acquaintances. Hardly friends. Certainly not the sort of friends who stop by and visit each other for the hell of it.

"Ready?"

Duo nods, stepping away from the wall. He shakes off his thoughts and heads for a spot on the lawn not covered in building supplies. They wind up on the dusty tailgate of Jack's truck with a pair of peanut butter sandwiches apiece. Around a mouthful of bread, Duo says, "Hey, the guys are going out tonight since we're working half a day tomorrow. You wanna go?"

"They invited us?"

It's not an unreasonable question, but Duo feels himself getting snarky over it nonetheless. "Naw, I just thought we'd crash their party and totally screw up their night for no particular reason."

Trowa says nothing.

Duo relents. He's not even sure why he'd felt the need to be so sarcastic. Now contrite, he says, "Yes, Jack invited us. You interested?"

"Sure."

"Okay."

The silence resumes. Trowa finishes his first sandwich and reaches for the water bottle. Despite the instinct for self-preservation which would have had Duo keeping his gaze fixed firmly ahead of him, he finds himself watching the line of Trowa's throat as he leans back and gulps down half of the water.

"Want to talk about it?"

Duo comes back to himself with a start, realizing that Trowa's now snapping the cap back on the bottle and reaching for the second sandwich.

"Uh, talk about what?"

"What's on your mind."

Duo glances away as Trowa looks in his direction. "Um, no. Not really."

"All right."

Duo lifts his sandwich, sighs, and lowers it again. "Trowa, why are you here?"

"What do you mean?"

He shifts uncomfortably, unsure of how to phrase what he wants to ask. "How did you wind up on this colony with me?"

Trowa pauses to study Duo's profile. Seeing the expression on his face, Trowa abandons the several smart-ass answers that dance on the tip of his tongue. He frowns at himself. He's never acted like this before, never been anything resembling a comedian. But around Duo he feels... different. He _is_ different.

"I'm not really sure," he admits, unable to adequately explain how a single dream has managed to bring him this far.

Duo shakes his head. "I just... don't get you sometimes, Trowa."

"Sometimes, I don't get me, either," Trowa confides, offering a small smile.

Duo's mouth curves upward as well. Some of the tension is released from his shoulders. "That's a bad sign, buddy."

"So I've been told."

"Aha! But do you listen?"

"Huh? What's that?"

Duo shakes his head, grin widening. "Ah, go find some fish turds to vacuum."

Trowa snorts very quietly.

"So I can tell Jack to expect us?"

"Yeah."

"Cool."

**...**

**"So she was** all like 'Let's find someplace where we can be alone, Bobby.'"

"But your name's Matt!"

"Yeah, I caught that, too," Matt says, looking suspicious.

Jack shakes his head and pours himself another beer. "Man, what a mood-killer."

"Well, now, that depends on how much you've had to drink."

"Yeah, after number five or six, 'Bobby' starts to sound an awful lot like 'Matt.'"

"Is that the voice of experience, there, Ron?"

"I was speaking hypothetically," Ron protests with just the right amount of indignation.

"Uh huh. Suure."

Matt takes another swallow of beer and nudges the guy on his left. "Your turn, Duo. Bad date story."

"Bad date story," Duo repeats, his face feeling a little warmer than it should. He glances up at his audience and fiddles with his glass of beer in front of him. "Uh, well..." His gaze lands on Trowa's and those green eyes seem to draw him closer. Duo tears his gaze away, regroups, and tries to look triumphant. "I don't have any bad date stories."

The guys at the table roar with disbelief.

"Guys, guys, I'm just a young'un! And I'm broke! No opportunity for bad dates, here!"

"Not _yet_," Ron says with a smirk.

Duo rolls his eyes. He has the impression that Trowa is highly amused by this conversation. And the fact that Duo's blushing over it. _That guy has a seriously sick sense of humor._

"How about you, Trowa?"

Very quietly, Trowa says, "I don't date."

Another roar from the guys promptly follows that little bomb.

"You're shittin' us!"

Trowa's face barely changes expression but he somehow manages to transmit a look that clearly says, _And you would know that how?_ Duo shakes his head as the rest of the crew exclaims over Trowa's obvious lack of interest in chasing anything in a skirt. Or a pair of tight blue jeans. Or some cute, little shorts. Or... Duo sips his beer and wishes Trowa would look just a little bit uncomfortable. But nothing doing. The guy's totally cool, completely relaxed.

Duo rolls his eyes.

Just when Jack, Matt, Ron, Tim, and Steve have started to dish out loads of dating advice they feel will be _immensely_ helpful to Duo and Trowa in the near future, the karaoke machine starts up at the far end of the bar and a young woman, brunette, in a pair of those aforementioned sexy short shorts, starts singing along with an old country song. The crew's attention is immediately diverted as they cheer for the hottie on the stage.

"Hey, she's somethin' else, eh, Duo?" Matt says. With a knowing twinkle in his eye, he advises, "If you cheer for her, you'll probably be able to get at least one dance..."

Duo coughs into his beer. "Uh, I'll keep that in mind. Thanks." He chances a glance at Trowa who is grinning behind his unruly hair. "Yeah, yeah, yuck it up, you sick little man," Duo grumbles just loud enough for his intended target to hear him.

Trowa chuckles. Silently, of course.

Before the pitcher of beer in the center of the table has emptied, Duo and Trowa find themselves alone as the crew begins to circulate through the bar, chatting it up with attractive women.

"Well, that's _my_ cue," Duo says, tossing a few bills on the table.

Trowa does likewise and the two of them manage to slip out the door without incident. As they head down the lamp-lit street, Duo says, "We work with some seriously... Those guys are..."

"Walking hormones?" Trowa suggests.

Duo laughs. "Don't you know it, man! I mean, I'm not about to ruin anybody's fun and if that's what turns your crank then more power to you, but..."

"It seems silly. After what we've been through." Again, Trowa finishes Duo's thoughts with eerie accuracy.

"Um, yeah." Duo looks at his friend. "How'd you—?" Trowa gives Duo the _look._ The one that says, _How the hell do you think I know?_ Duo clears his throat and looks back at the street again. "Never mind. I'm just glad we got out of there before they got any bright ideas about setting us up with anyone." With a shake of the head, Duo declares, "They have no clue what a total basket case I am."

"Hm," Trowa agrees. "That would be why you keep trying to strangle me in my sleep."

Trowa's voice is so mild, so mellow, that it takes Duo a few heartbeats to register the actual words. _"What!?"_

The corner of Trowa's mouth lifts in reply. He glances at Duo, prepared to smirk at the indignant expression that must be there, and stops.

"Duo?"

Shock. Fear. Disbelief. Anger. Resignation.

Trowa stares at the variety of emotions pouring off of his friend, none of which are indignation. "Duo, I was kidding. I—"

Duo's eyes close and a shudder runs through his body. "Dude, don't... Don't say stuff like that. Okay?"

"Okay."

Duo crosses his arms to hold in a shiver. "Okay."

Cautiously, Trowa reaches out, gripping his friend's shoulder. "Duo?"

"I'm okay."

Trowa's eyes narrow. "You're not. Come on." He tucks Duo's body next to his side and keeps his hand on his opposite shoulder, occasionally rubbing his hand down Duo's arm both to comfort and to warm him.

"What are you doing with me, Trowa? I'm... I... I could..."

"You couldn't."

"I _could_."

Trowa stops and turns Duo to face him. "I won't let you, Duo. You won't."

"But I'm... You don't understand... Shinigami..." [9]

"I do. I do understand. It's going to be all right, Duo. _You're_ going to be all right." Trowa firmly steers his friend down their street, his arm still moving over Duo's back and shoulders, trying to warm him.

"It's cold, Tro."

"I know. We're almost there."

Duo stumbles along, his mind not really on where he is or where he's headed. He's too busy remembering the nightmares, the daymares, the reality that lay beyond that. The terrifying, unforgivable reality of what he—Shinigami—had done. A sound rises from this throat. Distantly, he recognizes the sound of Trowa's whispered name on his lips.

"I'm right here, Duo."

He's only dimly aware of entering the condemned house, being lead into the one room they live in. Trowa's hands guide him to the sleeping bag, firmly push him down to sit on it, untie and remove his boots. As his friend's warm body begins to move away, Duo finds his hand fisted in the other man's shirt.

"I'm not going anywhere, Duo. I'm just taking my shoes off..."

Trowa's voice soothes him. Most of the words are stupid, obvious statements. But the sound of his voice and the solid heat of his body ground Duo in a way he had never thought possible. Trowa wraps his arms around Duo and they snuggle into the warmth of the sleeping bag.

"Just relax, Duo. You're safe. You're fine. I'm here. And I'm not leaving, Duo. I'm not leaving..."

The gentle murmur of Trowa's perfect promise wraps around him, warming him, and guiding him towards the darkness of sleep.

**...**

**In the still-dark** pre-dawn hours of the morning, a small sound escapes the throat of the long-haired young man. His body tenses and his brows draw together in a sign of distress. Instantly awake, Trowa adjusts his hold on him, gently laying Duo across his chest, nestling his head against his shoulder, and finding the nape of his neck with his fingers.

"I'm here, Duo," he whispers, working the tightly corded muscles. "It's just a dream. Let it go." His other hand brushes at Duo's bangs. This combination of voice and touch Trowa has found over the past week to be the most effective at dissuading a nightmare. He employs them now with ease. They're almost reflexive movements of his body.

"It's just another nightmare. Go to sleep..."

Slowly, the body in his arms relaxes against him. Duo's breaths even out as he falls back into slumber once more. Trowa waits, gently rubbing his neck and shoulder. He waits but Duo does not stir again. Eventually, Trowa himself begins to drift off. Mere moments later, his shallow, even breaths join Duo's.

Only then is it safe for Duo to open his eyes.

Trowa had thought he'd been having a nightmare. And, in a way, that is accurate. Waking up in the arms of his friend after that humiliating panic attack... having succeeded in demolishing yet another friendship... knowing that when the morning comes, Trowa will look at him like everyone else had. With wariness, pity, dispassion... The pain had been swift and hot. He'd needed to get away, to try to convince himself that this hadn't happened. But as soon as his body had tensed, as soon as he'd tried to shift away from Trowa's warmth, the other man had woken up.

So Duo had feigned sleep, had submitted to Trowa's hands, had been helpless to stop his body from responding to that touch and relaxing completely. Duo had marveled at Trowa's patience, his gentle hands and soothing voice. He'd wanted nothing more than to exist in that moment when Trowa had been bestowing his magic upon him. It had only been the aching of his heart that had kept him from falling back asleep. And then he'd heard those words: _It's just another nightmare..._

God... How often has Trowa soothed away one of Duo's nightmares?

_I thought it was just luck that the nightmares had stopped so suddenly..._

Not luck. Trowa.

And he would have worked his magic all night if Duo hadn't settled down. And he wouldn't have said a single word about it in the morning.

So Trowa knows about the nightmares.

And he'd stayed.

Duo's eyes squeeze closed in relief. Trowa hadn't left him. He'd known but he hadn't tried to lecture Duo or get him to talk about it. He'd just... stayed.

He'd never guessed he would have found such a friend in Trowa Barton.

Duo fights to keep his body limp as the backs of his eyes burn again. Trowa is his friend... for now. But if he were to find out... If he knew...

Opening his eyes, Duo allows the tears to do as they will. He studies the exposed lines of Trowa's face while he sleeps. He'd never expected to find himself in the embrace of a man he'd never honestly considered it possible to befriend.

_But he is my friend._

It is at this moment Duo realizes that Trowa genuinely cares about him. He realizes how very completely his heart would shatter if Trowa were to leave. And it is at this moment Duo understands that he can never, _never_ tell him the truth.

No matter what.

**End of Chapter 6**

[9] In "Episode Zero" Duo begins calling himself the God of Death (Shinigami) and continues to do so during the series.


	7. Chapter 7: Blood and Trust

**From The Manwell:** Ah, I love feedback. It's addictive; it really, truly is. Hopefully _Shinigami Sleeps _is just as irresistible for _you_ as your constructive feedback is for _me._ Symbiotic relationships are beautiful things, yes?

**Shinigami Sleeps**

**Chapter 7: Blood and Trust**

**Gone.******

Duo stares at the neatly rolled sleeping bag in the corner of the room. The _only _thing in the corner of the room. There is no friend. There is no friend's duffle.

Trowa is gone.

He draws in a gasping breath, dimly realizing that he hadn't been breathing. The action aggravates the ache beneath his breastbone. He gasps again. He feels the pressure building inside him but his instincts force him to remain quiet, at least until he can find someplace safe.

He rolls out of his bed and fumbles blindly toward the bathroom. He doesn't bother with a fresh change of clothes. Doesn't bother to locate a towel. He's the only one here, so it won't matter if he runs around the house buck naked.

Duo shivers as he twists open the tap. The colony's pressurized water system forces icy jets through the rusted showerhead. He sheds his clothes and plunges into the cascade.

He draws a sharp breath. The water is so cold it hurts. But he doesn't move. He knows that if he stands here long enough, he'll go numb. That's what he needs right now. To be numb.

His body shivers. He struggles with his breathing. He can barely hear the sound of his gasping, dry sobs over the impact of the water against the metal basin. This is all he allows himself. All he _can_ allow himself. He'd known this would happen. He'd _known_ Trowa wouldn't stay. _Couldn't_ stay.

_I'm alone._

It's both frightening and reassuring. He raises his arms and braces himself under the punishing spray. Duo lowers his head and lets the granules of water sting his back.

Being alone has never bothered him before. In fact, he'd preferred his own company more often than not. But not now.

The water is too cold and yet not cold enough. His skin is rapidly cooling to match its temperature. His muscles begin to shake. He sinks to his knees and tries to get used to the idea that there is no one who can help him. That he doesn't deserve it even if it were to be offered. That Heero had been right.

He sincerely wishes that Trowa had never bumped into him at the convenience store. The warmth of friendship followed, abruptly, by silent abandonment is far, far worse than Heero's clinical diagnosis.

_I'm alone._

He breathes heavily, trying to push the pain down. His body shakes continuously but he makes no effort to warm himself again. Arms bracing him over the drain, he endures in absolute silence.

_"Fuck."_

Duo is vaguely aware of the water being shut off. Of something soft and warm enveloping him. It burns his skin. Chafes. He winces, feels himself being lifted. Finds himself staring into concerned green eyes. For a moment, his mind is a complete blank. And then:

_Trowa..._

He watches, mesmerized as Trowa takes several calming breaths. Very softly, he asks in a gentle voice, "Why didn't you wait for me to come back?"

"Come back?" Duo echoes, teeth chattering.

With a nod, Trowa herds Duo down the hall and into the bedroom. "Why didn't you wait for me to come back with the laundry before you took a shower?"

Duo frowns. He shivers violently. "Laundry?"

Trowa keeps an arm around him as he switches on the heater. "Yes, laundry. Didn't you find my note?"

Duo opens his mouth. Closes it. Shakes his head.

Trowa lets out a breath that is almost an expletive in and of itself. He presses his body against Duo's offering as much warmth as he can. His hands guide the towel over him, rubbing briskly. Duo presses his face against Trowa's shoulder and submits. He's too wrung out to offer much resistance even if he'd had the will to do so.

In that mellow, quiet voice Duo associates with Trowa Barton, the other man says, "I'm sorry, Duo. I thought you would want some time to yourself."

Duo's fingers curl into Trowa's shirt in response.

Trowa wraps the towel around Duo's dripping braid and proceeds to coax Duo into pulling on a pair of boxers, jeans, and a sweater. Trowa goes about these tasks, for the most part, one-handed. Although letting go of Duo for a moment would make the operation much easier, he knows, from experience, that when the chill is coming from your soul, you don't really care about anything except maintaining the touch of another warm body.

"Here, Duo. Sit down." Trowa gently pulls Duo to sit between his knees. He wraps his legs around him and reaches for the paper bag sitting beside his duffle. "I bought us some breakfast." He has to use both hands to remove the safety lids from the coffee. He adds two sugars and a cream to one of them, lifts it to his own lips, and tests the temperate. Thankfully, the walk back to the house had given the liquid enough time to cool a bit.

His arm curves around Duo's shoulders again and he urges Duo to unbury his face from Trowa's shirt. "Here, have some of this."

Duo hesitates.

"It's not too hot."

Still, Duo doesn't move toward the offered beverage.

Trowa tries the one word that had always worked on him when Cathy had been trying to calm him down. [10] "Please?"

Reluctantly, Duo leans away from Trowa's chest and turns his face toward the insulated cup. His hands are still tangled in Trowa's shirt in a formidable death grip, so Trowa gently cradles the back of Duo's head and tips the coffee to his lips.

One sip. Then another. And another.

In between each tiny increment, his dark eyes return to Trowa's gaze. And Trowa keeps up a steady monologue in a voice he knows will soothe. "There. That's it. Just bit more..."

Duo watches and listens and feels. And, slowly, his body soaks up the warmth from the heater and the coffee and Trowa. He stares in silence, for a long moment, before asking gruffly, "How do you know what to do?"

Trowa offers him a small smile, one that's neither sad nor condescending. He's just relieved that Duo is back in the here and now. "You remember when I lost my memory?"

Duo relaxes a bit more, understanding. "Oh..."

"Yeah." Trowa lifts the coffee in silent question.

Duo shakes his head. He's had enough.

Trowa sets the cup down and settles both of his arms around Duo. He lets out a long breath and feels Duo lean into him.

Voice low and steady, Duo tells him, "I didn't think you were coming back."

Trowa rubs his hands up and down Duo's back and says nothing, just lets him say what he needs to.

"I'm so screwed up, Tro."

He rubs his cheek against the wet towel wrapped around Duo's hair.

"I never really thought you'd stay long anyway. Not after you found out about the nightmares."

He hears the implied question in Duo's tone. "Of course I stayed. I know a little about nightmares, Duo. I know how hard it is to endure them alone."

Pause.

"Trowa?"

"Yeah?"

And then, in a voice so small it's barely audible, Duo asks, "Did you leave the circus to find me?"

There is no hesitation. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I needed to."

Duo's mouth curves just at the corners. He inhales Trowa's scent and feels the last of the tension bleed away. Trowa had come here because he'd needed to find Duo. Not because Duo had needed him. Not because of pity. Duo isn't altogether sure that guilt and duty hadn't been involved, initially, but he doesn't sense either emotion from Trowa as he sits cocooned within his limbs.

"So you weren't surprised."

"No, I wasn't."

Duo thinks about this. Trowa had orchestrated their meeting. "Why? At the store, why did you...?"

"Because I didn't know how else to approach you without putting you on the defensive."

Duo draws a deep breath. "So you already knew."

"Yes. I knew about the nightmares."

"Who...?"

"Howard. And Heero."

Duo lifts his head and frowns. "How many people did you call looking for me?"

Trowa replies, "Everyone."

"Everyone?"

He nods. "Quatre, Wufei, Hilde, Howard, and Heero."

Duo's wrists tingle as his pulse stumbles faster through his body. "You...? Why?"

"I can't explain it, Duo. I just needed to."

They stare at each other.

Trowa continues, reluctantly, "Are you... sorry I found you?"

Slowly, Duo admits, "No... I just... never expected..."

"Neither did I."

Duo smiles. "Welcome to the Twilight Zone."

The corner of Trowa's mouth twitches. "I don't know about you, but I'm really scared."

Duo snorts. "You? _Scared?"_

"Okay; terrified."

"Yeah, you look it." Grinning, Duo nods to the paper bag on the floor. "What's that?"

"Breakfast."

At the sound of the very word, Duo's stomach growls. Trowa smiles. "Turn around. We need to deal with your hair."

Trowa locates the brush among Duo's things as Duo pivots one hundred and eighty degrees. He finds himself bracketed by Trowa's long legs and blinks. He hadn't even noticed how... intimate this position is. But, what's more stunning, is the fact that Duo doesn't honestly feel uncomfortable at all. He reaches for the bag as Trowa continues to squeeze water out of his braid. Only then does he notice what he's wearing.

"Is this your sweater?" Duo asks, pinching the knitted material between his fingers.

"Yeah."

"It's nice."

"Thank you." Trowa carefully removes the elastic band at the tail of Duo's hair. "Help yourself," he tells him, referring to the contents of the paper bag. "Just save me something, will you?"

Smirking, Duo opens the sack and inhales the warm scent of fresh muffins and gourmet bagels. "Oh, man. I don't know..."

The slight tug on Duo's braid is the only warning he gets.

Duo sighs. "All right. Maybe I'll leave you a few crumbs."

"You're too kind."

Duo stills. He glances over his shoulder at Trowa, expression serious. He says, "Thank you, Trowa."

A smile of understanding flickers briefly across Trowa's lips. He knows what Duo is thanking him for: for finding him, for taking care of him, for not leaving him, for being a friend to him. He says, "Eat your breakfast, Duo."

With a crooked smile, the other young man replies, "Yes, sir!"

**...**

**Trowa's gaze travels** in the direction of the shower and he forces himself to suppress the chill that sweeps through him at the reminder. It had only been three days ago, but the image of Duo cowed under the icy assault, shivering and pale, eyes vacant and lips blue, is one that he suspects will never fade.

He'd made a mistake—a horrible mistake—that morning. He'd thought to save Duo the awkwardness of waking up and remembering the night before and having to face him. He'd thought to give Duo time to calm himself down. He'd thought Duo would find his damn note and know that he was coming back.

_God, if I'd been much later in getting back..._

He doesn't want to think about it. But his mind oh so helpfully supplies the term: _Hypothermia._

Duo had been damn close. So_ damn_ close.

He reaches for the hem of his shirt but hesitates. It's not yet dawn. With any luck, he'll take his five minute shower and be back in the bedroom without Duo ever having noticed his absence. He reminds himself that Duo's nightmares tend to come visiting between one and four in the morning. It's nearly six now. He should be out of the woods...

_Just take the damn shower and get it over with._

Trowa yanks off his shirt and turns on the water. The extremely cold water. He spares a moment to think fondly of hot showers. Hell, even _lukewarm_ showers. Then he steels himself against the temperature and steps into the basin. He soaps and shampoos quickly and efficiently, turning his mind away from the cold and focusing on finishing one small task at a time.

**...**

**_"Duo?"_****__**

_ I turn around, my breath tangling and twisting in my throat. "Trowa?"_

_ Trowa looks up from the wreckage, cradling the body of a man in his arms. I know this man. I've seen him before. I've seen his eyes before. They way they'd looked at me, I'd thought... I'd felt..._

_ But now those eyes are open, staring blindly toward the sooty dome of the colony. The Alliance base is now smoldering rubble. As Maxwell Church had been smoldering rubble._

_ Trowa clutches the man closer to his chest. Both of them are covered in the officer's blood. I can barely make out the short, brown hair, the carefully trimmed mustache, the rank insignia on his collar._

_ Trowa watches me as I stare. Very quietly, he asks, "Why?"_

_ I try to swallow. Try to find my voice. I see the pain and the condemnation in Trowa's eyes. He waits for me to answer, but I know nothing I can say will make up for what I've done._

_ "I didn't know. I... I thought I was... It was for the church... for the colony..."_

_ His expression closes, freezing me out._

_ I reach for him. "Please, Trowa! I never thought this would happen! I didn't—"_

_ "Stop pretending, Duo. You felt no remorse. This was for revenge."_

_ What he says is true. I had done this; I had taken vengeance. "I feel remorse now," I offer, knowing it's not enough. Nothing could ever be enough._

_ "Shinigami feels no such thing," he states flatly._

_ I shudder. "No! No, I'm not..."_

_ "You are," he tells me. His gaze slides away from me and surveys the destruction. "When you did this, you became Shinigami. Didn't you?"_

_ I sob. Once. "Yes."_

_ "And Shinigami feels no remorse, does he?"_

_ "No..." I'm not sure if I'm agreeing or begging to differ._

_ Trowa rises, the soldier's body draped across his arms. "You are alone," he says._

_ And then he turns away._

_ "Wait!" I call. I yell. I scream. "Don't leave me here! Trowa!!"_

_ But I'm alone._

_ Alone._

_ Alone._

_ Alone._

_ I collapse in the ruins, falling to my hands and knees, feeling the heat of the embers pulse against my skin._

_ I struggle to let the tears fall, to be human._

_ But I'm not human. Not anymore._

_ I am Shinigami..._

**...**

**Duo comes awake** with a start. His throat is sore and tight. He blinks as several cold droplets rain down on his face. It is then that he notices the figure above him.

He shoves blindly at the intruder. His mind acknowledges nothing but the need to escape. To run. To never stop running.

The body hits the floor with a soft _thump_ and Duo scrambles over the bedding. He slams out the door and finds himself outside. He stumbles against a rough wall, doubles over, and heaves. With each reflexive spasm of his body, awareness rolls though him. He remembers he's on his home colony. He's living in a condemned house. And Trowa is staying with him.

_Oh, God... Trowa..._

Trowa had seen... had heard...

And he remembers the look in the dream-Trowa's eyes right before he'd walked away.

_I can't... Oh, God... I can't..._

He'd wanted to lean... He'd wanted so fucking _badly_ to lean on Trowa. Solid, grounded, gentle Trowa. But how can he? How can he when he _knows_ what will happen when Trowa finds out?

It's time to accept the facts.

_I'm alone._

The thought rips a hole in his chest. So he thinks it again.

_I'm alone._

And if he says it enough, maybe he'll start to believe that this is the way it's supposed to be. The way it has to be.

_I'm..._

"Duo?"

Warm hands settle on his shoulders.

_…scared._

He twists away, spitting to get rid of the taste of bile and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. "Go away."

A short pause follows Duo's husky demand.

"No."

"Go _away,_ Trowa."

"I'm not leaving."

Duo feels his entire body coil tight. The tension is so complete he shakes with it. Spinning around, he nearly shouts, "I need to do this _myself!_"

Without removing his gaze from Duo, Trowa tells him, "Yes, you do. But you don't have to do it alone."

"Damn it! I do _not_ want you to see me like this!" Duo glares at him. His throat is tender from screaming and vomiting. His breath is thin and raspy. He's a hair's breadth away from giving in to the comfort Trowa is tacitly offering with his mere presence.

Trowa takes a step forward... and then another... until he's inside Duo's space, until their bodies are nearly touching. Slowly, Trowa raises his hands and softly touches his fingertips to Duo's jaw. Framing his face so carefully, he captures Duo's complete attention and his vehement whisper penetrates Duo's fear and aggression.

"Do _not_ presume to know what it is I see."

Duo stares into Trowa's eyes, breath caught in his chest.

"I will not ask you about the nightmares. I will not force you to face them. But I am _not_ leaving."

A small sound whispers past Duo's lips. It's enough of an acquiescence for Trowa. He pulls Duo to him and locks his arms around him. Duo goes limp against him, burying his face against Trowa's neck.

Trowa listens as Duo struggles to keep his breathing under control. He knows that Duo is undergoing severe emotional anguish. He knows that he needs to let it out. But he's aware that Duo is just not ready to relinquish control like that. Not yet. And Trowa will never attempt to force him to. But he will be here when Duo decides he's ready.

Gradually, Trowa becomes aware of the cool night against his bare back and arms. A soft breeze blows against his wet hair. He listens to the soft rustle of discarded newspapers and empty cigarette packs in the streets. And then Duo's breathing changes. His breath puffs against Trowa's skin in a specific pattern. He holds his breath, and hears:

_"...mepleasedon'tleavemepleasedon'tleavemepleasedon'tleave..."_

Trowa slowly pets Duo's messy, slept-in braid. He lowers his chin, grazes his lips across Duo's cheek until they're level with his ear, and whispers, "I'm here. For as long as you want me. I'm here." He closes his eyes as Duo's arms tighten almost painfully around his waist. "I'm right here..."

**End of Chapter 7**

[10] During the series, Trowa briefly loses his memory and he would occasionally have something like panic attacks during which he would feel extremely cold. He had probably been remembering the sensation of free-floating through outer space.

**From The Manwell:** I've got you _really _wondering what Duo's holding in, don't I? Go ahead and admit it. You know you want to...


	8. Chapter 8: What He Sees

**Shinigami Sleeps**

**Chapter 8: What He Sees**

**"Well, that's about all** we can do for now," the reverend says, apologetically. "The rest of the supplies have been ordered, but they won't be arriving until Thursday."

Duo nods. "No worries, man. Tro and I'll just check in with you Wednesday evening, before bible study, to see if you've heard anything. That okay?"

Reverend Jamesson nods. "That sounds like a plan. Enjoy your time off. Laying shingles is going to be hard work..."

"Don't worry about us. We're tougher than we look, isn't that right, Tro?"

Trowa grunts. "If I can survive your cooking I can survive anything."

The reverend looks both amused and intrigued. "I think there must be a story behind that."

Duo grins. "Yeah, you bet there is. And if you ask real nice, we'll tell you all about it during our lunch break on Thursday."

The older man laughs at the obvious bribe. "Don't worry, Duo. I'll be needing your help for a while yet."

"That's good to hear."

They say their farewells and the two young men stroll down the street, toward home. For several blocks, neither speaks. Although it's not a particularly uncomfortable silence, there is noticeable tension between them. Trowa suspects it's because neither he nor Duo had discussed what had happened early Sunday morning: Duo's nightmare and Trowa's offer. They'd spent the morning dozing on Duo's sleeping bag, not speaking, just being.

And then Duo had withdrawn. Not a lot, but just enough to let Trowa know he needed some space. Needed to think. Needed a distraction. So they'd run some errands and strolled through the mall. Trowa smiles slightly as he remembers Duo's snicker upon spotting a pet store.

"What are you laughing at?"

Trowa glances in his companion's direction. "You."

Duo arcs a brow.

"Only you would find a perfectly innocent pet store a source of great amusement."

Duo grins. "Sorry, man. I just keep picturing you in an apron with those rubber gloves on, and maybe goggles, while you're vacuuming up the fish shit."

Trowa rolls his eyes. "And my epitaph will read: _A man of varied interests._"

That startles a laugh out of Duo. "Aw, can't we work the phase 'fish turds' in there somewhere?"

"Yet another classic Duo-ism is born..."

Duo looks positively thrilled. "A 'Duo-ism,' hey? I like the sound of that."

Trowa snorts. "You would." Their corner is coming up and Trowa turns toward it automatically.

"Um... Trowa?"

He pauses, noting Duo's hesitation to both disrupt their easy banter and continue along their current route. "What is it?"

"Can we... take a... um, detour?"

Trowa nods. "Of course." He returns to Duo's side, following his friend's lead. "Where are we going?"

"It's a... surprise."

Trowa arcs a brow but says nothing. By the tone of Duo's voice, it doesn't sound like a very _pleasant_ surprise.

Duo takes a fortifying breath and gestures to the street before them. "When I was a kid, this all used to be a bazaar. Fruit stands, clothing vendors, booksellers... they sold just about anything that would fit on a cart."

At Trowa's questioning look, Duo elaborates, "See, things were pretty tight back then for this colony. No one could really afford to set up shop, pay employees and the bills and stuff. So they'd rent a space for the day and wheel their carts out of storage."

Duo shakes his head at the memory. "Those poor merchants. My gang and I were absolute terrors. We were fast and we had expensive taste. We always hit the fruit stands the hardest. We knew we could trade what we didn't eat for just about anything we wanted. I remember getting a pair of shoes for a bunch of seedless concord grapes once.

"The house we'd... appropriated was decent, I suppose. We were really careful to keep our presence in it a secret. Then the demolitions crew came one day and told us to clear out. They were putting up an office building there and were going to tear our house down.

"I was furious. How could they just do this? It wasn't like we used up their tax dollars or anything. We didn't go to school. Didn't beg on the streets. We did steal. _A lot._ But the merchants could always just blame it on the soldiers and get Alliance compensation.

"So, imagine my surprise when they told my gang and I that we were going to be living in an orphanage." Duo's mouth twists into a wry grin. "Yeah, like any of us were adoption material... But they proved me wrong. Everyone shaped up and shipped out. But I... I guess I was too headstrong... too old to change my ways or something and I ended up staying."

As Duo relates this, Trowa notices that their meandering path is leading them toward the site of the former Maxwell Church. He doesn't tell Duo he already knows about it. This is a gesture that Duo wants to make, perhaps even _needs_ to make. Trowa isn't about to do anything so insensitive as interrupt him.

They turn the corner and start down the road the memorial is on. Duo continues, voice amicable despite the painful memories his monologue must be stirring up, "The priest and nun that ran the orphanage and the church next door were... well, they became, I guess, like parents. They provided me with the essentials, sent me to school, talked to me. They never really treated me like I was a little kid, never lectured me on what to do. I'd been taking care of myself for almost as far back as I could remember and they seemed to respect that. They were just... there. And I could see they really cared about me, wanted what was best for me, but wouldn't dare do anything to break my spirit in the process."

Duo doesn't say anything else until they come to a halt in front of the memorial. Trowa reads the plaque again even though he knows it by heart. Beside him, Duo shifts and the uncomfortable movement draws Trowa's attention. He can see the indecision on Duo's face, watches as he struggles to find the words.

Trowa says, "Were you the only one?"

_The only survivor._

Shock, then relief, and finally regret are reflected in Duo's expressive eyes. Unable to speak, Duo turns back to the ruins and nods. [11]

Trowa can almost feel the ache that has silenced his friend. He raises a hand to Duo's shoulder and rests it there. Just a touch... just to remind him that he's not alone in this, just to steady him so that he can go on if he chooses to.

Duo chooses to.

With a deep breath, he turns away.

Trowa recognizes this path as well.

It leads to the abandoned Alliance base.

**...**

**Duo's eyes scan** the rubble from a distance. He can't count the number of times he's tried to get closer. He can't place a quantity on his guilt, his shame, his pain. Somehow he'd gotten the idea that if he could just go past the guard gate, to the officers' quarters, he could ask their lingering essence for forgiveness and receive absolution. But he's never managed to actually try it. Deep inside him is the fear that he will go and linger with the ghosts and become one as well. He fears that it's far too late to unburden himself now.

He tells his silent companion, "I'd been working for Hilde for a while when I heard the salvage contract for this place was coming up. I didn't even talk to her about it, I just placed a bid. I don't even know what made me do it. Maybe I just wanted to see how... mortal this place had become. To know that the Alliance wasn't so high and mighty anymore. That I could pick through its bones and take whatever I wanted. I was still angry at them for what they had done to the church. I still wanted revenge. Which doesn't really make any sense." [12]

There's a long pause before Trowa inquires, "Why doesn't it?"

Duo gestures to encompass the destruction before them. "Because I was the one who did this. After Father Maxwell and Sister Helen were killed, I swore to bring down the Alliance on this colony. I swore to do everything in my power to keep them from hurting anyone else. So I joined up with some rebels. Learned how to make and set explosives. Got really good at stealth work. It took me four years before I could plan and execute my attack.

"I knew my time at this colony would be over once I'd blown the base, so I didn't really worry about hurting anyone's feelings. I stole all of the explosives I could, snuck onto the base, and planted them. It took me a couple of days to get everything in place. By then I was exhausted. And I got caught." [13]

Something passes over Duo's face and Trowa knows that he's editing his story. There are large parts that he's leaving out. Trowa is curious, but doesn't interrupt.

"And I escaped. Blew the ever-loving shit out of the place. This was the first kill I'd ever made. My first act as Shinigami.

"I didn't think much about this place until it came up on the salvage line. But, I suppose I had this perverse need to make sure there would be no possible way this place could ever resurrect itself. I had no idea I'd find... that those private safes in the residences would hold... what they did."

Trowa notes the tone of finality in Duo's voice. This is all he has to say... for now. Trowa accepts that, accepts the fact that they will be headed home now. It's been a long day, after all.

As they turn to go back, Duo finally speaks directly to him. He asks, "Trowa, what _do _you see?"

He recalls their conversation so early Sunday morning. He stops and turns toward Duo, unwilling to say this in passing. It's too important. To both of them. He lifts a hand to brush Duo's long bangs aside and says, "You. I see you."

There is fear in Duo's dark eyes. He's afraid to ask, but he forces himself to say, "And who am I, Trowa?"

He senses the gravity pulling them together and doesn't resist it. His hand settles against Duo's neck, his thumb resting softly over his pulse. "Someone who laughs, who loves, who feels pain, who makes mistakes... Someone who is my friend."

Duo's eyes close. A shiver ripples through his body at the words. Trowa watches as Duo swallows once, twice, and locates his voice. "Thank you, Trowa."

Trowa shakes his head, unwilling to accept gratitude for merely being honest. "It's the truth."

His eyes snap open. Duo stares at Trowa for a long moment, searching his face for something. Trowa allows the scrutiny, wondering what it is Duo is looking for. Wondering if he's capable of providing it. Finally, Duo's expression softens and the breath he'd been holding is expelled.

"You're right," he says, although he doesn't clarify exactly _what_ Trowa had been right about. He turns and begins walking again. Trowa's hand slides gently from his skin and is returned to his jacket pocket. After a dozen or so paces, Duo comments in a voice that's been forced to sound off-handed, "I'm probably going to have nightmares tonight."

Trowa glances at him and offers up a rare, genuine smile. "It's a good thing the two of us fit in your sleeping bag, then."

Duo returns the gaze and the grin. "Yeah," he says. "A damn good thing."

**End of Chapter 8**

[11] Duo's story is taken, in part, from the "Episode Zero" manga, although I did embellish portions of it.

[12] At the conclusion of "Endless Waltz," Duo is working at the salvage yard with Hilde.

[13] During the series, Duo seems very familiar with the way rebel groups operate. In "Episode Zero," Duo is depicted in an Alliance jail cell after the Maxwell Church Tragedy but before he sneaks on board Professor G's shuttle and gets caught.


	9. Chapter 9: The Horrors Await

**From The Manwell: **Ooookay... This is it. THE CHAPTER you've all be waiting for. And it also has the distinction of being one of my personal favorites...

**...**

**Shinigami Sleeps**

**Chapter 9: The Horrors Await**

**Trowa rolls over** to avoid the light.

It had been a very long, very hard night. Duo had indeed had nightmares. And Trowa had only allowed himself to drift, waiting for Duo to tense or make a sound. Every hour, it seemed, Trowa spent at least thirty minutes soothing Duo back to sleep. At sometime after five in the morning, he'd been too exhausted to keep at it. His last thought had been of Duo, that at least he'd gotten some rest tonight.

He gives up on sleep. Now that his subconscious is aware of the late hour, he can't get settled again. As one sense comes around, then another, Trowa notices one very important detail as he's lying in Duo's sleeping bag: he's alone.

With a frown, he opens his eyes and sits up. The room is empty.

He checks his watch. It's nearly noon.

Blinking, he crawls out of bed, wondering how Duo had managed to get up and leave without disturbing him. Of course he _knows_ how Duo had managed it. Still, it bothers him that perhaps he might have slept through something important. Something like one of Duo's nightmares.

He heads to the bathroom and washes up, rinsing off the last bit of sleep. He doesn't bother to examine his reflection in the dusty, cracked mirror. He's well aware of the fact he looks like complete shit. He certainly feels like it.

Trowa shuffles back into the bedroom to get dressed when something catches his eye. He sits down on his own, unslept-in bed and picks up a handsome, leather-bound journal. He assumes it belongs to Duo. And Duo must have wanted him to see it; otherwise he wouldn't have left it on Trowa's sleeping bag.

He opens the cover and spies a note written in Duo's penmanship.

_Trowa,_

_ I realized last night that I have to be honest with you. I can't say that I'm not scared of what you'll think when you read this, but I think you need to know. And, maybe, I need to tell you._

_ I'll be back by __20:00__ tonight._

_ See you then._

_ Duo._

Trowa sets the note aside and flips through the pages. The majority of the book is blank. He doubts it will take him eight hours to read this. But then something else flutters loose from the pages. A photograph.

His eyes widen slightly as he absorbs the image and a sick feeling comes over him. The happy family smile up at him from within the white boarders of the picture. Slowly, Trowa sets the image aside and takes a deep breath. His hand smoothes over the cover of the book before sliding beneath the leather. He takes another deep breath, indulges in another brief hesitation, and dreads what he's about to find.

**...**

**Duo Maxwell** stares out across the park. His fingers gently rub at the knitted sweater he'd borrowed from Trowa's duffle bag. He wonders if Cathy had made this for him, if it had been a Christmas present, or in the bargain bin in a low-end department store. If he closes his eyes he can almost pick out Trowa's scent, can almost imagine his lingering body heat, can build the illusion of his friend's presence.

He draws a deep breath and takes his time remembering, savoring. He takes out every moment he's spent with Trowa since bumping into him outside the store just two weeks ago and holds them up to the light. He doesn't want to forget these times, doesn't want to forget this miracle of friendship he'd been a part of. He'd told Father Maxwell and Sister Helen that he didn't believe in God because he'd never seen any miracles... [14] But back then, he hadn't known Trowa Barton.

The guy was—_is_—amazing.

Duo knows he's risking everything—the closest friend he's had in a _really _long time... the companionship his soul craves... his heart. But Trowa had told him the truth last night. He'd opened his soul and answered Duo's questions. And even though Trowa hasn't exactly _asked,_ Duo realizes that he can't hide this from him.

_God, I want him to know._

Duo has wanted to tell someone this for so long. To share this pain. To halve it. To be accepted despite what he's done. That had been why he'd gone to Heero. But, at the last possible moment, he hadn't confessed. He'd just made up some bullshit about not knowing what to do with himself without a war to fight. He hadn't lied. Not really. He'd just... omitted a hell of a lot.

And he's ashamed at how glad he is that he hadn't said anything. It would have completely broken him if he'd told Heero all of the dark secrets of his soul just to be sent away to face the ghosts alone.

No, he hadn't wanted to be alone. But it's more than that. He'd realized just after Trowa had asked to stay with him... he needs absolution.

_I'll settle for him still being there when I get up the courage to go back._

He closes his eyes, pulls his feet up onto the bench, and wraps his arms around his shins. He's not sure what he'll do if he returns to an empty house tonight. Although he doubts he'll get around to telling the reverend about the first time Trowa tried his cooking.

Duo lowers his forehead to his knees. His lips move, but no sound emerges. He's not sure if it's a prayer or a plea. He's not sure if he deserves to have anyone answer it. But the words tumble from his heart and he can't not breathe them into the fine, February weather:

_"Please don't leave me."_

**...**

**_This journal is the property of Captain Kurt Franklin._**

Trowa examines the inscription on the first page and feels the knot in his stomach shift and swell. _Franklin__._ The name Duo has been using. Trowa pauses and forces his breathing to remain level and deep. With trepidation, he gently turns the page and beings to read.__

_ A.C. 179: Sylvia, my beautiful, amazing Sylvia, is pregnant! I'm in shock. I was in shock when she told me and I still can't believe it now, hours later. Although I did somehow manage to convince her that I'm thrilled. I think it might have been my picking her up and twirling her around the room. Or perhaps it was my laughter. It's been so long since we've had something to celebrate. I wonder, now, if it's wise to bring a child into this world, this war. But perhaps this conflict will end soon. Perhaps things will settle. I can only hope my work with the __Alliance__ will bring about peace. I can only hope this world will be a safe place for my Sylvia and our child..._

_ A.C. 180: It's a boy! My Jesse! I never thought this day would come. I must have imagined looking down at my son millions of times, but the reality to so much more! I feel such love... And my need to keep him safe, to watch him grow up... I've never felt this strongly before. My son is a miracle. My Sylvia is a miracle. They are my reason for seeking peace. They are my reason for living. They are my everything. Oh, Jesse, there is so much out there for you to discover. I can barely contain my urge to show everything to you right now. Never before have I felt it: the incredible possibilities that the future holds. Someday, when you have a son or daughter of your own, you will know what I am talking about. But for now you're mine to protect and love and watch over. My son. My miracle._

_ A.C. 181: I don't think I'll ever forget today. I know I'll never want to. Your first birthday, Jesse! Your first presents and cake, although not your first mess. Sylvia's still in the shower trying to get the frosting out of her hair. All of her friends warned her not to keep her long hair after you were born, but she didn't listen. And I'm glad. You love that braid almost as much as she does! So now it's the end of the day and you're asleep in your crib. You probably won't remember this day, but I will. You give me so much, son. And I love you so very, very much._

_ A.C. 182: Well, you were definitely louder this year than last! "Mommy, I want _this_" and "Daddy, I want _that_"... Oh, God but you're a handful. I don't know how Sylvia does it. Just watching you wears me out! I feel so old next to you, but that light in your eyes—eyes just like my Sylvia's—makes me feel so young. You're going to do great things, Jesse. You're so special. I can't imagine how other people could possibly miss that sparkle of yours. Every day you amaze me. And sometimes you even downright startle me. You're so smart. I could tell you didn't believe me when I told you the stork brought you to Mommy and I. You just gave me that look you have. And then you laughed. And I couldn't stop myself from laughing with you._

_ A.C. 183: I can't believe you want your hair to look just like Sylvia's. My own son with long hair. I'd shake my head and mutter if not for the fact that I love you more with each passing day. Sylvia thinks you'll outgrow this, but I don't think so. You're a rebellious spirit, Jesse. Nothing could ever be boring and ordinary for you. I imagine that you'll be an artist or adventurer or something equally reckless and risky. You'll certainly never grow up to be a soldier like your old man! Not with long hair, anyway! Jesse, I hope you never have to know what it's like to live in this world I wade out into every day. I hope I can keep you safe. But you're so bright, so alive. I fear smothering you and forcing that light from your eyes. But how else can I protect you with this war going on? My son, I hope you don't live to hate me for bringing you into a place such as this._

_ A.C. 184: I look back over my previous entries and realize what a complete and utter fool I have been. I am only one man. An __Alliance__ soldier.__ A target. That is why you both were taken from me. My Jesse. My Sylvia. You were just walking down the street to go to the bakery to find the perfect cake for the party tomorrow. Jesse, you would have been four years old. And you've paid for my inability to suppress the rebel groups. They tell me it was instantaneous, that you didn't feel any pain. I suppose I can be grateful for that much at least. But what am I to do now? Do I simply give up? End it all? Let those who triggered the bomb win? I wanted peace. I worked for it. I dreamed about it until I could taste it on my mouth. Now... now it doesn't matter anymore. My miracles are gone. And all that's left is an __Alliance__ soldier. Not a man, just a machine of war._

_ A.C. 188: What have I done? We finally cornered the rebel group responsible for the deaths of my wife and son. Finally, I am allowed my vengeance. I barely read the report I was so eager to finish this, to finally know that Sylvia and Jesse's souls are at peace. I signed the papers. I ordered the strike. May God forgive me. Two-hundred and forty-five people are dead. Maxwell Church, the orphanage, the orphans... all gone. What have I done? I had not thought living could be any more hellish, but I was wrong. Hell cannot be worse than this. And there is no way I can redeem myself. But there is nowhere left for me to go. I am an __Alliance__ soldier in a world that hates and despises us. I am no longer partially innocent in this conception as I have now done something so completely reprehensible. I deserve death. And, once, I would have welcomed it. Would have welcomed being with my Sylvia and my Jesse again. But now I know I'll not be joining them. They are far, far beyond my reach for all eternity._

_ A.C. 192: I... I can't believe it. I... Oh, dear God, don't fool with me like this! Please, please... Wait, I must get myself under control. Start from the beginning... The guards found an intruder. A young boy. I was off-duty so they just locked him up. They threw a child in a detention cell. How could I have ever thought the __Alliance__ was a benign organization? How could I have been so blind? If they are willing to treat a boy like this...? As soon as I heard about the prisoner, I reprimanded the officers who confined him and then I went to visit him. I looked into the cell and saw him. Thin, lanky, and covered in black from head to toe. I tried to talk to him, but he only smirked at me. I asked for his name and all he would say is 'Shinigami.' And then he turned away from me and I saw it. The long rope of golden brown hair. I felt my heart begin to beat faster, felt the hope—that hated, irrepressible hope—begin to build inside of me. I said something derisive, I don't remember what. I just wanted to get him to look me in the eye. And he did. And I saw his eyes. Even from beneath the brim of his hat, I couldn't mistake those eyes. Sylvia's royal blue eyes. So dark they're nearly violet. So wide they mesmerize. Oh, God, tell me it's true. Tell me that's my Jesse! I have to order the DNA test in the morning. I have to make sure the guards treat him well. I can get him out of this. I must get him out of this. Oh, Jesse. You looked right through me. You don't remember me. You don't remember how much I loved you. But it's not too late. We can start over. Be a family again. Please, Jesse, just give me one chance to make it right. I love you so, so much._ [15]

Trowa turns the page, but it's blank. Of course it's blank. The explosion had happened just shortly after Kurt Franklin had written this last entry. Trowa carefully sets the journal aside and picks up the photograph. The man with golden brown hair and a neat, thick mustache is Kurt. The woman with blond hair in a loose braid hanging over her shoulder and down to her waist is Sylvia. The toddler they hold between them with shaggy brown hair and almost-violet eyes is Jesse.

And Jesse Franklin is Duo Maxwell.

Trowa tucks the photograph safely within the pages of the unfinished journal. He leans back against the wall and closes his eyes. Suddenly, his own nightmares seem ridiculously petty in comparison.

**End of Chapter 9**

[14] From "Episode Zero."

[15] The timeline is taken from the events in "Episode Zero" although the events in Kurt Franklin's journal are, mostly, my own creation. The rebels at Maxwell Church and the Alliance's attack are from "Episode Zero." Duo's imprisonment in an Alliance cell is, I'm reasonably certain, something that is shown in "Episode Zero" even though there's no mention of why he got arrested. He's even wearing his priest's outfit, so I'm inferring he's already decided to get revenge for the deaths of Father Maxwell and Sister Helen.

**From The Manwell:** All right, folks, you can't NOT have a strong reaction to this chapter. Please leave a review (even if it's a really, really short incoherent one) and tell me what you think. Thanks for sticking with "Shinigami Sleeps" thus far!


	10. Chapter 10: Judgment

**From The Manwell:** I'd like to thank all the beautiful people who reviewed Chapter 9: The Horrors Await. It's nice to know I've still got my knack for writing Greek Tragedy. And, yeah, Duo's past seems to have that "fate, inescapable" theme to it. But maybe it's just me... Anyway, you're thinking to yourself, "NOW WHAT, DAMN IT?! UPDATE ALREADY, MANNY!!!" Heh, all right. Here it is: the rest of the story begins now...

**...**

**Shinigami Sleeps**

**Chapter 10: Judgment**

**The colony lights** have been steadily dimming for the last half hour. The breeze has picked up and the temperature has dropped. Still, Duo doesn't move from the bench. As long as he's here, he can pretend that Trowa's still waiting for him.

He pulls the sleeves of the sweater over his hands and props his right foot up on the edge of the bench, hugging one leg to his chest. He drapes his left arm over his knee and nuzzles the fabric. The sweater has the feel of having endured too many washings. It's flat and heavy against his skin. He sighs into the weave, thankful that he has this even if he has nothing else. If Trowa's really gone, then at least Duo has this garment. The warmest article of clothing Trowa had brought with him. The item he had dressed Duo in without the barest hesitation. Perhaps it wouldn't mean that much to someone who has always had a home with central heating or loving arms at their disposal. But to Duo... to the little boy who'd had to survive on the streets, who'd been cold and hungry more often than not, who is aware of how rare pure, genuine kindness is, this stretched-out, lived-in sweater symbolizes everything he's ever wanted and had convinced himself he'd never have. If Trowa really is gone, then at least he'll have the memory of Trowa's generosity and care and friendship to keep him warm.

He just hopes the memory will be enough.

Duo closes his eyes and sighs. It's getting late. He knows this. Still, he hesitates. He knows it'll hurt if Trowa has left. But... what if he hasn't?

His eyes open and his gaze sweeps over the park as he ponders this new contingency. What will he say if Trowa's still there? What will he expect Duo to say? To apologize? For what exactly? The past? The ironic tragedy that is his life? For holding the truth back for so long? For needing him? And what if he doesn't want an apology? What if he expects something else? An explanation?

Duo wracks his brain, trying to prepare himself for any possible confrontation. After several, long minutes, Duo decides his best bet is to apologize, to state firmly and clearly that Trowa can walk away if he wants to.

That will be the real test. If Trowa is still there, will he take the out Duo has decided to offer him?

_And what if he doesn't?_

The chill begins to permeate Duo's clothes and he shudders. He considers this possible outcome. And then realizes that the test isn't Trowa's to pass or fail, but Duo's.

_Can I look him in the eye knowing that he knows?_

Maybe.

Maybe not.

But he knows he's not going to know the answer to that until he gets off of his ass, goes back to the house, and tries.

**...**

**Duo freezes on the threshold. ** His gaze slides, disbelieving over the scene before him. Trowa's sleeping bag is gone from its usual place against the west wall. And the corner that had held his grungy duffle bag is vacant as well. But that isn't the biggest shock. Duo's biggest surprise is... well... _Trowa._

The young man's long, lean body is slumped against the wall, his legs sprawled across Duo's sleeping bag. The bed looks... thicker somehow and Duo realizes Trowa's doubled up their bags, providing an extra two layers of padding. He's still wearing the clothes he'd worn to bed the night before. His jaw is shadowed with stubble and his hair is sticking up in a few places. Beside him lies Kurt Franklin's journal and Trowa's left hand is resting on top of it, palm up. Duo would call the pose an invitation except for one small detail: Trowa is asleep.

He hovers in the doorway, indecisive. Should he go in and sit down next to him? Should he leave and come back in the morning? Curl up on the floor? Wake Trowa up? As much time and effort as he'd devoted to discovering all possible outcomes to this day, the present situation had not been among them. He sighs.

"Duo?"

Duo starts guiltily in the doorway as Trowa stirs and blinks open his eyes. Very quietly, he says, "Yeah, Tro. It's me. Go back to sleep."

Trowa shakes his head. "Wasn't sleeping. Just drifting."

"Oh."

Taking a deep breath, Trowa sits up and carefully observes Duo's current mood. After a bit of a pause, during which he gathers as much information as he can, Trowa moves the journal aside and pats the surface of the bedding once.

_Definitely an invitation,_ Duo decides. He takes a step into the room, anxious but unable to resist the offer. It's the sound of the door thumping closed behind him that makes him pull up.

"Duo?" Trowa makes a conscious effort to keep his voice neutral. He cannot make another mistake like he had last Thursday morning. He calls upon the instincts he'd developed as a child to wait for Duo to make the next move.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Duo clears his throat and glances around the room, finding the sight of Trowa's duffle bag leaning against his own back pack to be a particularly fascinating sight. "You know, it's okay if you've changed your mind."

Trowa says nothing. And he doesn't intend to break his silence until he's absolutely sure he knows where Duo is going with this... and why.

Not receiving a response, Duo clarifies, "You don't have to stay here just because you said you would." At the edge of his vision, Trowa is perfectly still. _That's got to be a bad sign, right?_ Despite having prepared himself for this, despite having rehearsed this speech for the last hour, Duo feels himself tense. And when he gets tense... "I mean, you didn't really know the whole story when you, um, promised and I certainly don't expect you to hang around if you want to go but I'm really glad I told you and all because I needed to and I feel better knowing I'm not the only one who knows anymore so—"

"Duo."

Duo's babbling stumbles to a reluctant halt. He turns his gaze in Trowa's direction and prepares himself for the inevitable.

"Do you want me to go?"

Duo blinks. "That's..." _Not what I was expecting..._ "...not the point. I extracted a promise from you under false pretenses which isn't fair at all to you and—"

Gently, Trowa interrupts, "That's not how I remember it. I offered. Of my own volition."

"But new information has kinda come to light here and that's changed things—"

"Not what's important," Trowa cuts in.

Miraculously, Duo closes his mouth and simply stares at Trowa.

Sensing that his friend might be ready to have a dialog with him, Trowa repeats, "Do you want me to go?"

Anger flares in Duo's eyes. "God damn it, Trowa. That's not what this is about."

"What is it about?"

"What do _you_ want?"

Trowa pauses until Duo takes two deep breaths and looks like he might actually be able to hear Trowa's response. He says, "The same thing you want, I think. For the nightmares to stop."

The words have an interesting effect on Duo. The anger vanishes completely. A small frown creases his brow as he stops and thinks about what Trowa has just said. And then his eyes widen as he makes the connections. "Trowa, you...?"

Trowa returns Duo's baffled gaze. "Is it so hard to believe I still have nightmares, too?"

Duo closes his eyes, retreating for a moment. He hadn't thought of this. Of all the things he thought Trowa _might_ say in reply to Duo's offer to let him off the hook, _this_ he had not even remotely considered.

_Trowa... needs me, too?_

"But, Tro... I haven't _done _anything except be a fucking _leech_ ever since you got here!"

Trowa differs, "No. You've leaned once in a while. That's all."

"But I don't _want_ to lean 'once in a while,'" Duo protests. "I want to lean all the God damned _time!"_

Trowa takes a breath with which to reply but Duo speaks over him.

"And at the same time I don't _want_ to lean at _all._ I've survived growing up on the streets, terrorist groups and pilot training, a God damn _war_... I'm stronger than this. I don't _need—_"

"You are the strongest person I know," Trowa tells him bluntly, sincerely.

Duo closes his mouth and swallows. It almost hurts to hear Trowa say that about him. Perhaps that's because he so badly wants it to be true.

Into Duo's silence, Trowa continues, "You have withstood more than _anyone_ could ever be expected to endure." He pauses, then continues more quietly, "You earned my respect a long time ago, Duo. And my trust. You still have both."

Shoulders slumping, Duo admits, "I... I don't want to lose them."

"You haven't," Trowa assures him. "You won't."

"That's... a hell of a lot to promise a guy, Trowa."

Trowa's steady gaze holds Duo perfectly still. He replies, "It's not a promise. It's a future fact."

For a moment, no one moves. Eyes sliding closed, Duo's breath hisses out from between his teeth. He pivots and braces himself against the wall with an arm. Avoiding Trowa's eyes, he tells him, "This isn't going the way I expected it to."

"How so?"

"I thought... I..."

Trowa waits.

"I didn't expect you to still _be_ here when I got back."

_Then you don't know me very well, do you, Duo?_ Trowa bites back the words. This isn't about Trowa and this isn't about Duo not trusting him. This is about Duo punishing himself for the choices he'd made in the past.

Trowa asks, "Did you want me to be?"

"I... did and I didn't." Duo glares at the opposite wall and gathers his reasoning, prepares to articulate it. "I wanted you to be here but I didn't want to have to face myself."

"I'm not judging you, Duo."

One side of Duo's mouth stretches upward in a rueful parody of a grin. "I wish you would."

Trowa's getting a little tired of this pity game. "I caused the deaths of everyone in my troupe. Knowingly. I'm hardly qualified to pass judgment on you." [16]

Duo's body jerks subtly at the admission. Before he can stop himself, he looks over his shoulder at Trowa. Seeing the resignation in his face, the flat look in his eyes, Duo wishes Trowa had punched him instead. "I... I am such an ass," he apologizes.

The corners of Trowa's mouth lift upward. "Not an ass. Just overwhelmed."

Duo arcs a brow. "Just like that? I'm forgiven?"

"You're too damn charming for anyone to stay mad at you for long," Trowa says in his typical monotone.

"Even you," Duo concludes with a genuine grin.

Trowa silently concurs.

Duo turns, leaning his back against the wall and running his hands through his bangs and over his hair. "Shit, I'm tired."

Accepting Duo's blatant attempt to drop the conversation for now, Trowa nods. He leans forward and unzips the sleeping bag as Duo unlaces and toes off his boots. Trowa slides beneath the covers and takes the place against the wall, giving Duo the freedom to leave the bed whenever he chooses. _If _he chooses.

Duo shakes his head at himself as he shuts off the small lantern. He can't help thinking this day should have ended very differently, that he shouldn't feel so relaxed crawling into bed with Trowa, that he shouldn't settle so easily against his friend's side, that he shouldn't like the feel of Trowa's arm around his shoulders nearly as much as he does.

**End of Chapter 10**

[16] From "Episode Zero."****


	11. Chapter 11: A Sure Thing

**Shinigami Sleeps**

**Chapter 11: A Sure Thing**

**The bartender smiles** at the two young men pacing the perimeter of the old pool table. He's not exactly on a first-name-basis with them yet, but considering the fact that they've visited his little bar three times in the last ten days, he's officially begun to think of them as "regulars."

"You know, we should place bets on these games, Tro."

The slightly taller young man lines up a shot as he replies mildly, "Why's that?"

The braided youth leans on his pool cue and his grin is border-line feral. "To make it more interesting, of course."

"So playing against me isn't interesting enough for you, is it?"

His friend snorts and allows his gaze to roam over the lean figure. In a voice that doesn't carry past the two of them, he concedes, "Well, the word 'interesting' doesn't do justice to the view I'm enjoying right now..."

Trowa pauses as he pulls back his cue. He directs his attention over his shoulder, meeting the mischievous twinkle in Duo's eyes. Very deliberately, Trowa allows his own gaze to glide down Duo's slim form and then back up again. "Absolutely," he agrees.

Duo blushes.

Trowa turns back to the game with a slight smirk. With a snap of his arm, he sends his intended target into the intended pocket. "What do you want to wager?"

"I'm not sure," Duo admits. "I was kind of hoping you'd have an idea or two."

Formulating his next move, Trowa says, "There's always laundry duty."

"Nah. Too boring."

"Dinner."

"We switch off on that anyway."

Trowa hesitates to lean over the table again as the perfect wager comes to mind. He looks Duo in the eye and says, "A hot shower."

Duo blinks. Mouth on autopilot, he replies, "Alone?"

Trowa stares at him for a minute.

Then, as his mind oh so considerately replays what he'd just said aloud, Duo's face begins to perform a slow burn.

Trowa's mouth stretches into a wide—and previously undisclosed—grin before he leans back against the table and laughs. For several heartbeats, Duo just watches Trowa's mirth. He's never seen the other man laugh before. The sight and sound of it does something to his pulse and a peculiar warmth starts deep in his stomach and spreads outward in a quick flush.

Eventually, Duo feels an answering chuckle pour out of him. "Er, sorry, Tro. That kinda... um..." He wonders if he should use the phase "Freudian Slip" to explain his outburst or if it'll only dig him deeper into the hole.

Trowa ignores Duo's embarrassment. "The loser arranges for the winner to have a hot shower and a night in a real bed," Trowa says, still smiling.

Duo's brows arc at the expensive stakes. He says, "Does the loser get to use said shower and sleep in a real bed, too?"

"At the winner's discretion."

Duo mulls this over but is unable to find a down side to this wager. Slowly, he nods. "Okay..."

Trowa leans over the table and sends the eight ball into the pocket nearest Duo. With the game over, Trowa deposits the correct change into the table to release the balls and begins to rack them. Duo digs into his jeans pocket and pulls out a coin.

"Flip for who breaks?" Duo asks. Trowa looks up from arranging the multicolored billiard balls and nods. "You call it," Duo tells him. "Ready?"

Trowa nods again.

Duo thumbs the coin into the air.

"Tails."

Sweeping his hand through the air, Duo collects the coin and slaps it on the back of his wrist. Without looking at it, he sticks his hand under the hanging lamp hovering above the table. Trowa's gaze flicks down. He smirks.

It's tails.

Duo grins amicably, "Your move, Tro. Who goes first?"

Trowa studies Duo's face for a moment before deciding, "You do."

"Um... okay."

Trowa removes the guide and slides it into its slot at the side of the table. He holds out a hand in a silent request for the chalk cube, which Duo tosses and Trowa catches with ease.

He had briefly considered setting up the game so he'd have the greatest chance of losing, so that Trowa would owe Duo a hot shower and a real bed for a night. But something had stopped him. Trowa has the suspicion that Duo feels... obligated for relying so heavily on Trowa these last two plus weeks. And Trowa suspects that if he were to lose, Duo would feel even more indebted. So, at the last possible moment, Trowa had decided to win. Had decided to let Duo do him this favor. And, as the game of pool generally goes, the person who plays first only sinks two or three shots before running out of moves. When Duo misses and allows Trowa to take his turn, Trowa intends to sink every one of his shots. He'll not be playing down his game tonight.

Trowa chalks up his cue and leans over the table. The crack of the break echoes in the pub. He sees Duo lift a single brow in appreciation. It's a good break. A _very_ good break. Backing off from the table, Trowa watches Duo set up his first shot. It's a tough one. In fact, there are several easier marks on the table, but—seeing Duo's smirk—Trowa understands that Duo is trying to one-up him.

Duo executes. The target ball slams into the side pocket. Trowa muses, _So__ I'm not the only one who hasn't been competing in earnest..._

Duo works his way around the table, completing four shots easily. "You realize you're goin' down, don't you?" he asks flippantly as he lines up a fifth.

"In your wildest dreams, Maxwell."

Duo laughs. "Shit, man. That sounded just like Wufei."

"Wufei's name and the word 'shit' in the same breath? You better hope I don't say anything to him about that."

"You'd let Wufei beat me up? Or worse? Give me The Look? What kind of friend are you?"

"A sadistic one."

"I'll say."

"If we're not too busy tomorrow evening, let's go find some puppies to kick."

Duo snorts... then snickers... then chuckles... and finally laughs. "Tro—man—you have—a—_wicked_ sick—sense of—humor."

"So I'm discovering."

Finally, Duo gets control of himself once more and puts away that fifth shot. Shaking his head, still smiling, Duo circles the table. Then, inexplicably, he pauses and seeks Trowa's gaze. Expression a mix of curiosity and sobriety, Duo asks, "What do you mean you're 'discovering'?" Duo offers a playful grin. "Didn't you already know you were such a sick and twisted individual?"

"Not before I started hanging out with you," Trowa confesses, amused but honest.

Duo looks away, suddenly uncomfortable. "Um, that's... weird."

Still completely relaxed, Trowa says, "Not really."

Duo's gaze settles very briefly in Trowa's direction while he prepares for his sixth shot. "Why not?"

Trowa doesn't reply and his silence unnerves Duo enough that he screws up the shot completely missing the hole. With a somewhat frustrated sigh, he retreats from the table.

Trowa chalks his cue, surveys the game's landscape, and begins to play. During the entire time, he can feel Duo's gaze following his every move. It's unsettling and Trowa has to make an effort to regulate his respiration and channel his attention. After nearly five seemingly infinite minutes of tense silence, Trowa says, "You know, Duo, I could miss this shot and let you win..."

That gets the expected reaction. "The hell you will."

Tension between them broken, they settle back into conversation once more.

"You loose on purpose and I'll kick your ass, Trowa Barton."

"You and what army?"

"Pretty cocky for a guy who's never been on a date, aren't you?"

"Are you calling my masculinity into question?"

"No, just your imagination and charm."

"And this is the part where you'll give me all the advice I'll ever need for three easy payments of ninety-nine ninety-five?"

"I accept all major credit cards."

"But no personal checks."

"Do I look like I was born yesterday?"

"You look like you're about one shot away from finding me that hot shower."

"Yeah, well, there's worse fates. Can't think of any at the moment, but I'm sure they're out there."

Trowa steps away from the table. He only has the eight ball left and it's an almost obscenely clear shot. He looks up at Duo and says quietly, "It's not too late to call the bet off."

The left half of Duo's mouth curves into a grin. "Don't you dare."

"All right." He leans over the table, shoots, and the eight ball disappears from sight.

**...**

**"I can't believe **you told them my cooking was only a step up from primordial ooze."

Trowa glances at Duo as they depart the building site. "Actually, I said, 'On the evolutionary food scale, it ranked _almost_ as high as primordial ooze.'"

Duo snickers. "Dude, of all the words I never thought I'd hear you say..." He shakes his head. "Ooze. Heh."

Trowa takes careful note of the fact that Duo isn't the least bit perturbed by Trowa mocking his culinary prowess. But then, when Trowa had said that, he'd almost smiled at Duo, remembering all of the effort Duo had gone to that evening but in vain. He doesn't think anyone else had noticed the affection in his eyes. Just Duo.

"Only you could burn Spaghetti-O's," Trowa says, both amused and awed.

"Yeah, it takes _real_ talent to be me."

The soft, wistful expression on Duo's face is a surprise and Trowa has to shove his hands in his jeans pockets. There's something... different about Duo lately. In fact, the delighted yet somewhat predatory aura Trowa's caught occasional glimpses of had started shortly after Duo had lost their hot-shower-and-a-real-bed wager. Realizing this, Trowa feels his muscles tighten with suspicion. He recalls the way he and Duo had flirted with each other that night at the pub. Recalls Duo's innocent slip up about showering solo.

"Tro? You okay, man?"

He comes back to the here and now, turning sharply to meet Duo's eyes. "Yes. Fine."

"You looked like you were off on Earth somewhere."

Trowa answers Duo's shy smile with a shake of his head. "Not on Earth," he assures him, easily answering Duo's implied question; Trowa had not been missing his old life. No, he'd been wondering about _this_ one.

They traverse the remainder of the block in silence. As they cross the street, Duo sighs softly and slowly. "I was thinking..."

Trowa looks up at Duo's hesitation, catching the flicker of pain as it tightens his expression. "About what?"

Duo bites his lip then confesses, "The 'what ifs.'" His glances at Trowa with an apologetic expression. "Sorry, Tro. Didn't mean to ruin the end of our day with that."

Trowa ignores that. "What if... what?" he inquires gently, sensing Duo needs to talk about this.

Hunching further under his jacket, Duo steps onto the sidewalk and replies, "What if I'd hesitated? I mean, when that Alliance officer insulted me and I turned around to glare at him, I saw... I felt... something, Trowa. And it scared me. I don't know if I was just seeing his surprise or if I was remembering... I didn't want to know. I just ran." Duo shuffles to a halt and clenches his fists. "Things could have ended differently, Trowa. So very differently."

Trowa hovers closer, offering his presence, unsure if Duo would accept his arms around him out here, in the open street.

Duo hauls in a deep breath and looks up, eyes glistening and very wet. "All he wanted was one more chance, Tro."

_Ah to hell with it..._ Trowa pulls his right hand from his pocket and curls his arm around Duo's shoulders. And as Duo rests his forehead against Trowa's neck, he guesses that he made the right decision in reaching for him.

"And that's maybe not even the worst part," Duo continues, voice muffled. "I'd accepted the fact that I was alone, that I had to take care of myself, that nobody wanted me, and I was going to prove it to the whole world that I was _somebody._ I was going to make them see what a mistake they'd made in getting rid of me." A shuddering breath leaves Duo's body. "The rage kept me going, kept me strong, kept me rolling out of bed in the morning and running faster and laughing louder. And now... now it's just... gone." One of Duo's hands curls around Trowa's shoulder from behind and his grip is almost painfully tight. "I _was_ wanted. I _was._"

Trowa's eyes squeeze shut for a moment, hearing the delicate meaning in Duo's carefully chosen words. "Was." Not "is."

"And I looked back at that base, the detonator in my hand, my thumb on the switch and I remembered that soldier's eyes when he'd looked at me. I just stood there thinking about that. And then I got angry. Angry with the Alliance for all the pain they'd caused. Angry with myself for hesitating." Duo's other hand grasps the front of Trowa's shirt. "I pressed the switch, Trowa. And then I just tossed it aside and walked away."

Trowa pictures the moment easily. Imagines a younger Duo dressed all in black, eyes shaded beneath the brim of his hat, contemplating the remote in his hands, contemplating the act he is about to commit. Hesitating as a possibility too painful presents itself to him: forget about revenge and investigate the look in Kurt Franklin's eyes. And he watches as Duo's expression hardens with anger and frustration. He's lived for this moment for four years. He reminds himself of everything the Alliance has taken. And he gets angry enough to press the detonator.

The world explodes around him, but he remains framed in the entrance to a dark, familiar alley. He watches, the flames and smoke reflecting in his eyes. And then, something inside of him... perhaps it's hope... dies. Trowa's imagination shows him the silent, slim, dark figure as it turns and disappears into the shadows.

"I became Shinigami that night," Duo tells him. "I mean, I'd suspected everything and everyone I loved would be taken from me, that fate hated me, that I was cursed. But that night, I stopped _letting_ the world take from me, and started taking from it. Took all the souls I thought I'd need to fix me."

In a defeated whisper, Duo concludes, "But it _didn't_ fix me. None of it did. Just made everything hurt worse."

Trowa feels himself caught between murmuring meaningless reassurances and confessing his overwhelming feelings of ineptitude. He's just glad the street is empty this cold, Thursday evening. He wishes Duo had waited until they'd gotten back to the house to confess this, but knows Duo's disregard for their current location illustrates the depth and intensity of his grief.

Some time ago, Trowa's other arm had settled around Duo as well. Now he strokes his hand slowly over Duo's hair and fumbles for something—for the _right_ thing—to offer him.

With a deep breath, Duo leans away just enough to look into Trowa's eyes. There's a searching moment when Trowa feels the almost palpable probing of Duo's gaze. And then his breathing stills. Tuned to the motions and mannerisms of Duo's body, Trowa finds himself holding his breath as well. And then Duo leans forward.

The brush of Duo's lips at the corner of his mouth is electric. Trowa's body jerks and he retreats from the touch. Retreats, but doesn't loosen his hold on Duo.

Very softly, he asks, "Why did you do that?"

"Uh..." The air floods back into Duo's lungs. He looks everywhere except Trowa's green eyes. His body tenses. He tries to run, to hide. Trowa doesn't let him. "Um, well, I guess I was just thinking that, um... look, I know hanging out with me hasn't exactly been a thrill-a-minute lately and I've really been bringing you down with all of my issues and I just thought—"

Trowa's brain engages and politely fills him in on why Duo is reacting this way. Trowa says, "Yes, Duo."

Duo swallows, blinking. His voice almost cracks as he whispers back, "Yes... what?"

The hand against Duo's hair shifts until the backs of Trowa's fingers are sliding reverently over Duo's temple and down to his cheekbone. "Yes," he murmurs, "I want you." And the tone of his voice coveys the meaning of that statement perfectly; it has nothing to do with lust and everything to do with the ache in Trowa's heart.

A soundless gasp rushes between Duo's lips. He blinks again as his eyes burn and shimmer with tears. Drawn in by Duo's sudden inhalation, Trowa closes the distance between their mouths slowly. So slowly, Duo could easily withdraw... or savor the anticipation.

Trowa's lips settle against Duo's in a warm caress. He gently cradles Duo's upper lip and then his lower, brushes his mouth over the tender skin a second time. His eyelids are heavy, but Trowa forces them to stay open.

The anxiety and tension leaves him and an air of contentment and peace radiates from Duo's body. His dark eyes nearly close as well, still glittering with tears Trowa knows he won't shed.

The kiss is lingering and gentle and Trowa offers up what he can to heal Duo's shattered soul. And then the kiss changes subtly. It becomes less about healing Duo and more about healing each other.

Duo's lips move infinitesimally, returning the caresses on a breath, "Trowa..."

"Yes," he breathes back. "I want you."

In his shirt, Duo's fingers tighten in response. He presses himself against Trowa's body.

Trowa's lips linger and he drinks in this moment. He hesitates to let go, feeling like any movement away from Duo will fragment his control and rip open wide his chest, pouring these almost painful emotions into the street. And if the way Duo returns his hold is any indication, he feels the same as well.

**End of Chapter 11**


	12. Chapter 12: Surprises

**From The Manwell: **Thanks for all the reviews, everyone! As you read in Chapter 11: A Sure Thing, this story is looking rather shounen-ai at the moment. I don't anticipate that changing, so if it's driving you postal then I'd better warn you it's not likely to go anywhere. I'm not sure if there will be yaoi in later chapters, but please keep it in mind as a possibility. Thanks!

**...**

**Shinigami Sleeps**

**Chapter 12: Surprises**

**"We... I..."** Cathy takes a fortifying breath and begins anew. "How are you Trowa?"

Noting her struggle with words, Trowa responds carefully, "I'm fine." He pauses a moment, examining her image in the vid screen. "Are you sleeping?"

She forces a smile ands shrugs. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine. I just picked up a book and couldn't put it down last night."

"Hm," he replies to her casual lie.

"How's Duo?" she returns quickly, eager to redirect the conversation.

"All right," Trowa responds honestly. There's been a noticeable change in Duo's demeanor since that moment on the street two days ago. He's calmed, settled, and started to smile at his own inner musings again. Trowa has missed those silent, mysterious grins.

"I'm glad," Cathy tells him genuinely. "There's not much new happening here. The manager's still grumping about how you're never going to have enough time to learn the new routines, the lions are moping, and the mechanics are threatening to quit now that you aren't there to give them a hand. You know, the usual." [17]

The corner of Trowa's mouth twitches. "Yeah," he agrees.

"Well, I'd better go. Thanks for calling, Trowa. It was nice to hear from you."

"Sure," he says. "Bye, Cathy."

The screen goes blank but not before he sees the sheen of tears in her eyes. He remains standing there in the vidphone booth, wondering what could bring the strong, opinionated, independent Catherine Bloom to near tears. The last time he'd seen her cry had been years ago when he'd tried to kill himself. [18]

Trowa leans back against the wall and crosses his arms over the ache in his chest. He feels torn. He left her to find Duo because he believed he had been needed. And he had been. But what had he left behind? Cathy had taken his decision to leave with difficulty. Only now does he really being to wonder why.

Perhaps he never should have left.

But no. As soon as that thought crosses his mind, he knows he doesn't regret setting on his quest to find Duo. Knows he wouldn't have made that decision any differently. He's _glad_ he'd come to this colony. Not only had he found Duo, but he'd found a friend, someone who challenges him, who effortlessly halves his pain, who makes him smile more than is his habit. And he believes he's had a similar effect on Duo in return.

His lips part as he draws in his next breath. The soft friction of the air reminds him of that kiss on the street. Even now, the power of that moment makes him close his eyes. In all of his life he'd never felt that sense of homecoming, of comfort, of acceptance. He wonders how a moment that had begun for the purpose of reassuring Duo has managed to have such a profound effect on him as well.

Trowa's throat aches with the certain knowledge that he'd liked kissing Duo. He'd liked holding onto him and being held onto in return. It had been a shock to realize he'd like to lean on Duo indefinitely. And immediately following that thought, he experiences another: he wonders if it would be possible to stay with Duo, to turn this brief sojourn into something more...

The soft sound of someone tapping on the booth's door tugs Trowa from his moment of introspection. Somewhat reluctantly, he straightens away from the wall and takes a slow breath in preparation for vacating the cubby he's spent the last half-hour within. He opens the door and shifts to slide past the next person in line for the phone but a pair of dark eyes and a mischievous grin stop him.

"Duo," he says, startled that Duo has followed him here.

"Heya, Tro" is the reply. With an easy grin, Duo holds out a familiar duffle bag.

"What's this?" Trowa asks as he slowly accepts his own luggage.

Duo arcs a brow at him. "Your shit, dude." One side of Duo's mouth twitches upward, "Like hell I'm carrying it all the way across the colony. There wasn't anything in the bet about that."

Trowa settles the weight of the shoulder strap and a tightness releases around his heart. He'd completely forgotten about the bet. When he'd seen Duo standing there with his things he'd thought... something else.

"An oversight on my part," Trowa replies, trying to forget that moment of silent dismay.

"You all right, man? For a minute there you looked like your favorite critter had just died."

"I'm fine, Duo," he tells him with a snort.

"Hm," Duo says neutrally. "C'mon, man," he invites with a gesture. "Places to go and all that."

Trowa follows Duo out of the shopping center and asks, "Where would that be?"

Duo sends him a sidelong glance, telling him without words that he won't reveal his plans so willingly. "To take care of that bet" is all he says.

"That's not a destination," Trowa points out blandly as he matches Duo's stride.

Duo grins with considerable enthusiasm. "Oh, it will be. Trust me."

Noting the somewhat sadistic glee expressed in the young man's features, Trowa deadpans, "Unfortunately, I already do."

Duo laughs. "Said like a man about to face a firing squad. Shall I offer you a blindfold and a cigarette?"

"If you actually have those on you, I'd prefer not to know about it."

"Where's your sense of adventure, Tro?"

"With all those poisonous reptiles I'd be missing if I worked in a pet store."

"You know, there's a clinical name for people like you."

"Brilliant?"

"Bonkers."

"That's not a clinical name," Trowa tells him, feeling his mouth begin to stretch into a smile.

"Sure it is. My therapist calls me that all the time."

"You don't have a therapist."

"If I didn't have you, I would."

"That doesn't count," Trowa says in a voice that's thicker than usual.

"Sure it does."

"Then it's a good thing we keep separate scoreboards."

"Am I winning most of the time on yours, too?"

Trowa's mouth twitches. "Much to my dismay," he intones drolly.

"Yeah, you sound really broken up by it," Duo observes.

"I internalize."

Duo laughs. "Of that I have absolutely no doubt, man."

Trowa folds his hands into his pockets and concedes the battle of wits. He contents himself with walking in silence for a fair distance simply soaking up Duo's presence beside him. He doesn't bother to ask about their destination again, doesn't bother to try to remember what lies in the direction Duo is taking him. With an effort, Trowa puts aside his need for control and docilely trails along.

A considerable amount of time passes before Duo finally steps off of the sidewalk and approaches a residence. Trowa pauses at the edge of the path to take in their destination. The neo-Victorian home sprawls across the lush lawn. Vines strain up the archway that leads to the garden around the back. The hand-painted sign in front of the veranda reads: _The Waterlot Inn and Restaurant._ [19]

"Duo?"

With one foot on the first step, Duo pauses and turns back to the young man still hesitating at the gate. "Yes, Tro?"

Trowa looks away from those sparkling eyes and concentrates on the elegant architecture of the almost-mansion. He searches his mind for the words to express the thoughts he can barely register. He says, "You'd spring for this but you wouldn't carry my bag?"

Duo laughs. He hadn't expected that. "Hey, I've gotta prioritize."

"Hm."

Still, Trowa doesn't approach the inn. Duo is about to point out that no one ever got a hot shower while standing out on a sidewalk when Trowa speaks again.

Very softly, he says, "You can't afford this."

Duo's smile widens. "Already bought and paid for, Tro. You're not going to suggest we head over to one of those economy hotels, are you?" he asks with a single brow raised.

Trowa says nothing. Just turns to reabsorb the delicate landscaping, the softly glowing stained and leaded glass windows. Why would Duo spend the money for a place like this when there are many other adequate and less expensive places on the colony? Trowa glances at Duo again and notes the lingering presence of that soft, mysterious look in his eyes. And although Trowa's customary façade of indifference remains firmly in place, he has the distinct impression that Duo is taking this moment to look past it. His fingers tighten around the straps of his duffle bag. His wrists tingle with the whisper of adrenalin. The muscles over his heart tense.

He quietly asks, "What other surprises do you have planned, Duo?"

Still smiling, Duo tells him, "Only good ones."

Trowa has no reply to that.

Then Duo gestures grandly to the front door. With a slight bow and smirk, he invites, "After you."

**...**

**"I think I underestimated you,"** Trowa says into the mild evening provided by the colony's weather control geeks.

Walking up beside him, Duo grins. "Yeah, a lot of people have that same problem. I hear there's even a support group for it now."

He watches as Duo plugs in the hair dryer provided by the inn and snags his brush from the somewhat rumpled surface of the featherbed.

"Not only did you leave me some hot water, you even tested out the bed. You'd better be careful there, Tro. You're spoiling me."

"It's all part of my master plan," he assures Duo before turning back to the view of the colony at night.

"Oh? Today Duo Maxwell, tomorrow the world? That sort of thing?"

Trowa chuckles softly. "I'll be happy with just Duo Maxwell," he replies without thinking.

Duo pauses in the act of reaching for the power button on the blow dryer and glances over his shoulder at Trowa. Realizing what he'd just said, Trowa's fingers tighten their grip on the window molding. A moment passes before he can feel the radiance of Duo's smile against his back.

"Well, if that's the case," Duo returns, "I don't think you'll encounter much resistance."

Trowa blinks once as those words hit him. Behind him, the blow dryer clicks on and begins to hum. He transfers his gaze to the young man half dressed, seated on the edge of the over-priced bed he'd bought for the night and smiles.

For a moment, he watches Duo artfully wrestle with the brush and blow dryer before walking over to him and mutely holding out his hand.

"Resistance is futile," Trowa agrees, waiting for a response to his offer.

Duo, unable to miss the open palm held beneath his nose, reluctantly releases his hair brush to Trowa. The bed dips behind him as Trowa climbs up to join him. And then when the hand appears a second time, Duo relinquishes the dryer as well.

"Resistance may be futile," Duo grumbles over the rumbling of the dryer, "but if you frizz my hair out, I'll hurt you."

Trowa begins to comb through the damp strands. "Promises, promises."

**...**

**Duo had listened** to Trowa's protests; there hadn't been anything in the bet about buying dinner. But Duo had ignored him.

"It's all part of the package," he'd replied lightly.

"Christmas in February?" Trowa had responded scanning the inn's menu by the soft candlelight adorning their table for two.

That increasingly familiar mysterious grin had reappeared for a brief instant. "Maybe," Duo had told him.

And now, as Duo holds open the front door for Trowa, he inhales the early night air deeply. "Oh, man," he sighs, "I think I've just been ruined for peanut butter sandwiches."

Trowa looks pointedly from the open doorway to Duo. "What's this?" he inquires mildly but with no shortage of curiosity.

Duo shrugs. "The night is young, man. Did you really just want to go back up stairs and watch each other breathe for the next three hours?" Duo doesn't wait for a reply. "Me neither. So, c'mon."

With a resigned sigh that does nothing to eliminate the pleasant buzz of anticipation in Trowa's pulse points, he silently crosses the threshold and jogs down the stairs.

Noting the absence of any comments or questions in response to his declaration, Duo grins. Hands in his pockets, he begins strolling down the walk beside his roommate. "You know, I'm really enjoying this more agreeable side of you, Tro."

"I'm generally disagreeable?" Trowa replies, brows rising.

With a soft chuckle, Duo tells him, "Let's just say you prefer to have equal say in what happens to your person."

Trowa makes a soft noise in the back of his throat.

"Is it so hard trusting me?" Duo asks after a few more paces in silence.

Trowa glances at Duo, telling him, "It's hard trusting in general." Returning his gaze to the path before him, he continues, "But no, it's not hard trusting you."

Duo grins. "Thanks, man. Even if it's a lie, it's a nice one."

"I won't lie to you, Duo," Trowa promises softly.

His companion shakes his head. "Don't say that. You have before. You might need to again. So don't promise me, okay?"

Trowa slows to a stop on the sidewalk. "It's not okay, Duo." He seeks out Duo's gaze in the darkness and meets it with his own. "No more lies."

Dredging up a half smile, Duo persists, "That one of those future facts?"

Trowa shakes his head. "It's been a fact for a while."

"Hm," Duo murmurs, accepting this for the moment. Instead, he steers Trowa past a large sign announcing the presence of one of L2's few liberal arts colleges. With a slight frown, Trowa glances in Duo's direction but the young man's face gives nothing away.

Swallowing back another sigh, Trowa wonders what he'll have to say or do in order to convince Duo that he's sincere about his promise not to lie to him. Wonders if not being up-front with Duo about why he ran into him at the convenience store had been a bad decision. But at the time, he hadn't believed Duo would accept his offer of friendship. What would he have told him in the first place? _Duo, I had this dream about you and in the dream I was in love with you and you needed help but I didn't know what to do for you so when I woke up I decided to hunt you down because I needed to know you were all right..._ Yeah, that would have gone over real well.

Yet another door opens before him and with a small start, Trowa glances up to see Duo motioning him into the fine arts building.

"You didn't sign me up for a pottery class, did you?" Trowa jokes as he steps into the cavernous lobby.

"Naw. Not enough sharp objects," Duo tells him. "And all their sculpture courses were full."

"Damn," Trowa intones. His gaze sweeps more leisurely over the lobby, taking in the sight of several student works displayed on the walls and near the plain, serviceable benches. One particular painting catches his attention and he wanders closer to it. For a long moment, he studies it beneath the soft white noise generated by the overhead lights. Feeling Duo's approach beside him, Trowa tears his gaze away from the abstract before him.

"What are we doing here?" he asks curiously.

Duo grins and takes a breath to speak. But it's a moment longer before any words come out. During Duo's hesitation, the first strains of music spill into the lobby from a nearby rehearsal room. They both pause and listen as what sounds like a full orchestra is put through its warm-up paces. When the students are allowed a brief pause before beginning an etude, Duo finally replies on a whisper, "Listening." He gestures to the artworks scattered throughout the room. "Looking." Turning back to Trowa, he asks, "What's your pleasure?"

As Duo's plans for the evening finally make sense, Trowa finds himself smiling. With a shake of his head at Duo's uncanny ability to surprise him, Trowa settles on a nearby bench. He leaves plenty of room for Duo to join him which he does. Leaning back against the cold wall of the classroom behind them, shoulders touching, they close their eyes and listen to the melodic merging of dozens of individuals in the room just around the corner.

For the better part of an hour, they sit almost leaning on each other and allowing the music to chase all thoughts from their minds. During a particularly intense, soaring piece, Duo feels Trowa shiver beside him. Opening his eyes, Duo watches a subtle shudder affect the flesh beneath Trowa's long-sleeved shirt. He can only imagine it's gooseflesh. The thought makes him smile.

When the song ends, the sounds from within the room change. Seats are being moved, instruments set down carefully. Although reluctant to disturb Trowa's peaceful figure, Duo nudges him.

"C'mon, Tro," he says, standing. "They're taking a break. In about two minutes this lobby's going to be packed with music students."

With a perfectly silent sigh, Trowa unfolds himself from his seat and follows Duo down a small hallway. They wander past the empty classrooms spying half-finished canvas paintings and easels, worktables and printing presses. In between the doors, bulletin boards are crammed with sketches and prints and photographs. As they meander deeper down the small, secondary hall, a different kind of music entirely slowly increases in volume. Rounding a corner, they see a gray metal door with a sign reading "Darkroom" standing open in the hall.

Movement from within the room snags their attention. They watch as a dark-haired young woman works at a large sink, completely focused on her task even when a lithe girl with her blonde hair cut in a short, pixie style embraces her from behind.

"Please? Just one dance?" the blond woman cajoles softly.

There's a short, indecisive pause from the woman working at the sink.

"I know you love this song..."

The blond woman reaches past her companion's shoulder and slowly adjusts the volume on the portable radio.

As the music begins to take over the small room a sigh of acquiescence escapes the figure at the sink. "Okay," the second woman concedes. She dries her hands on a yellowed towel and turns to her lover. "Just don't even think about dipping me."

"You're no fun," the first young woman says affectionately.

Remaining in the shadows of the barely-lit hall, Trowa watches the two of them move in perfect time to the music. But he only allows himself a moment. Slowly, so as not to announce his presence to the pair in the room just a few feet away, Trowa moves to head back to the lobby. He takes only a few steps before noticing the fact that Duo is no longer at his side.

Duo stands just inside the shadows opposite the open door, listening to the music with his arms crossed over his chest as if holding back a great ache. It's then that the words begin to register in Trowa's mind.

_"I have the bravest heart that you've ever seen and you've never met anyone who is as positive as I am sometimes..."_

The refrain builds, remaining soft but the melody expands to fill every void in the tune.

_"You see everything... you see every part..._

_ "You see all my light... and you love my dark..._

_ "You dig everything of which I'm ashamed..._

_ "There's not anything to which you can't relate..._

_ "And you're still here..."_ [20]

With those words, Duo lifts his gaze to meet Trowa's. The lyrics vibrate in the air between them as they both remember Trowa's promise to stay and Duo's disbelief that he would want to.

A shudder travels the length of Duo's body and the motion draws Trowa closer until Duo's shoulder is pressed against the other man's sternum. A slender, calloused hand gently grips Duo's opposite shoulder and Trowa stills, then. He inhales the scent of cheap 2-in-1 shampoo from Duo's braid and listens to the song.

It's uncanny how perfectly the lyrics match their situation. For it is true that everything Duo has shown him, Trowa has understood, appreciated, loved.

_Loves.___

Trowa closes his eyes as Duo leans back against him just a bit. He savors the warmth of the contact and the trust in that gesture.

He loves Duo.

The revelation is quickly accepted. There are no fireworks of epiphany, no tensing of his body, no skipping of heartbeats nor holding of breath. Trowa is unsurprised by his emotions. But he remembers that strange dream which had driven him to find Duo and wonders: had the dream fulfilled itself in that Trowa had grown to love him or had he always loved him and the dream had merely made him realize it?

But in this moment, the how, when, and whys of Trowa's emotions do not matter. What matters is that he's found Duo and that Duo wants him to stay.

The song dies away and, with a shaky smile, Duo leads Trowa back to the foyer. The orchestra members had already resumed their seats and soft, melodic chords are spilling from beyond the closed doors.

As Duo turns to resume his seat on the bench, his fingertips find and trail down Trowa's arm, guiding him down beside him. A moment later Trowa finds himself with Duo's arm draped warmly over his shoulders and his back pressed to Duo's chest. When he attempts to shift his weight off of Duo, the arm around him tightens and the young man merely shakes his head.

"Stay," he breathes softly so as not to break the beauty of the music.

Trowa settles back against the offered embrace and closes his eyes. He understands that Duo is attempting to return some of the warmth and support Trowa has shown him. He realizes that Duo is sharing with him what it feels like to lean on someone trusted. He experiences what it is like to know he is cared for.

So this is what Duo feels when Trowa is with him stealing away the nightmares? Trowa can understand why all of Duo's attempts to assure Trowa that he doesn't have to stay with him have been so half-hearted. Trowa isn't even undergoing a significant amount of distress and he'd rather die than move from Duo's solidity and heat.

Slowly, Trowa's eyes open. Perhaps it's the perfection of the moment that alerts him to the significance of what he's done in offering Duo whatever he is capable of giving. Perhaps it's the suspicion that, if he and Duo's lives had been reversed, Trowa would never have the strength to let go of him. But Trowa suddenly sees the flaw in his willingness to offer Duo whatever it is he needs.

Because Trowa realizes that what Duo needs is absolution and that is not something Trowa can, with his presence alone, provide for him.

Nestled behind him, Duo opens his eyes as well when he senses the gradual tensing of Trowa's shoulders. "What is it?" he asks softly.

Forcing himself to relax again, Trowa shakes his head. "Not tonight," he responds just as quietly.

Knowing that Trowa doesn't want to darken their evening with his thoughts, Duo concedes the conversation and just enjoys the moment, not suspecting that Trowa has just realized that in order for Duo to truly be happy again Trowa must let him go.

**End of Chapter 12**

[17] During the series, Trowa has an affinity for the lions at the circus and vice versa. Also, the circus manager is always stomping around calling Trowa a lazy punk or some such nonsense.

[18] During the series, Trowa tries to self-destruct in his Gundam when the circus is performing at an Oz base.

[19] _The Waterlot_ is a gourmet Bed and Breakfast in Stratford, Ontario, Canada. I have yet to eat a meal that tops theirs.

[20] The song quoted is "Everything" by Alanis Morissette from her 2004 album: "So-Called Chaos."


	13. Chapter 13: Moving On

**Shinigami Sleeps**

**Chapter 13: Moving On**

**The new church** in Laurel Heights had blossomed with the addition of the roof, the completion of the floor, and a final coat of paint. Much to the surprise of Reverend Jamesson, the building had almost been completed by the end of the following week. He'd grown rather fond of Duo's humorous anecdotes and Trowa's dry commentary, so it had been with regret that he'd had one last conversation with the two young men.

"It's almost done," Duo says, tucking the day's salary into his pocket as his gaze moves over the structure he'd helped erect.

"Yes," the reverend tells him, glad that Duo had broken the somewhat awkward silence. "Very nearly. In fact, it's a head of schedule because of the two of you."

Trowa nods once, acknowledging the reverend's sincere smile. Duo grins as well, but doesn't look away from the new church. "So I guess you won't be needing us anymore, huh?"

Finally, the reverend finds himself looking into Duo's expressive eyes. He doesn't want to see these youngsters disappear forever, so he invites, "I'd be a great help if both of you would come to hear my first sermon..."

A strange thing happens then. Duo shifts and looks away, awkward for the first time the reverend has ever seen. In the same moment, Trowa steps forward so that his shoulder brushes Duo's and speaks sincerely.

"We currently attend at Maxwell Church."

The reverend blinks. "Maxwell? But that burnt down years ago..."

"Not the memories of it," Trowa replies quietly. He then looks to the new church behind the reverend and says softly, "It left a strong impression with a lot of people on this colony. It's a shame they only have memories of all the good things that came from its presence here."

The reverend notices Trowa's subtle emphasis on the word "memories" and hurries to assure him, "It is my hope I'll be able to follow Father Maxwell's example."

A small, strangled sound emerges from Duo but Trowa is quick to reply, "That's good to know, but I doubt we'll be able to stay here much longer."

"Of course," Jamesson says, "You're both very young and there aren't many opportunities on this colony for people your age. You'll keep in touch, though?"

Trowa nods. "You'll be hearing from us."

"Good. Then safe journey, Duo, Trowa."

"Thank you, Reverend," Trowa replies for himself and the oddly silent Duo. Gently, he steers Duo away from the building site, feeling the gaze of the reverend still on him.

Jamesson watches the two boys step onto the walk and as an afterthought, calls after them with a wave of his hand, "May you have God's blessing!" [21]

And perhaps it's just his imagination, but Duo seems to lean heavily against his good friend, as if experiencing sudden pain.

**...**

**"Shit, Tro,"** Duo breathes, leaning back against the bedroom door until it shuts tightly in the warped frame. Pushing his bangs out of his eyes with the palm of his hands, he mutters, "Is it _ever_ going to stop hurting?"

Trowa kicks off his shoes before lowering himself to the sleeping bag and arranging himself sitting Indian-style. "Do you want it to?" he replies.

Duo pauses and turns his incredulous gaze to Trowa. "What the hell kind of question is that? Of _course_ I want it to stop!"

Letting out a long breath, Trowa leans back against the wall. "Sometimes the pain is all you think you have left of the times that meant the most to you."

Duo frowns slightly at Trowa's explanation. "What, like... holding onto the pain so you won't forget? So you won't feel like you're betraying their memory?"

"Or because it's all you've got, all you can feel, because it's yours and you don't want to lose that, because it's familiar, because that's how you punish yourself." Trowa shrugs. "There are lots of reasons."

"Yeah," Duo agrees. After hesitating for a moment, he approaches the sleeping bag and sits down beside Trowa. "I thought helping to build that church might help me see Maxwell Church as it used to be, before..." Duo pauses and sighs. "But whenever I think of it, I still see it in smoking ruins. And in watching a new church being built, all I managed to do is remind myself of the loss."

Duo leans forward and, bracing his elbows against his thighs, cradles his face in his hands. "May you have God's blessing..." he whispers. "That's the last thing Sister Helen said to me before she died."

Trowa watches Duo force a great, calming breath into his lungs and listens to the shuddering exhalation that follows. Sensing Duo's imminent emotional collapse, Trowa curves an arm around his shoulders and lays both of them down on the sleeping bag. Spooning behind Duo, offering him his presence while giving Duo the ability to hide his expression, Trowa keeps one arm around him and just waits.

Duo takes several moments to get his breathing back under control and his pain locked back up where it belongs. During this time, he focuses on the tangible warmth of Trowa's silent vigilance.

Clearing his throat, Duo finds his vocal chords a little sore from trying to hold back his past. He grates out, "You gonna go back to the circus now?"

Trowa closes his eyes and takes a moment to inhale the scent of Duo's hair against his nose. "I was thinking about it."

"Oh."

"Something's bothering Cathy."

"Hm," Duo manages around the renewed tightness in his throat.

"Something's bothering you," Trowa continues.

Duo swallows. "Uh..."

He frowns when the body behind him shifts and he finds himself on his back with Trowa leaning partially over him. "Where are you going to go now, Duo?"

Caught unprepared by that question, Duo forces a shrug and a lopsided grin. "Not sure. Maybe I'll see what shuttles are available for tomorrow or—"

"There's one that leaves for Earth in two days."

Duo scowls. "How do you—?"

"Cathy's not well and we were running out of work. I check the schedule when I call her."

"Oh." Duo studies Trowa's face in the dimming light. He waits for Trowa to say something else but no more words are forthcoming. Perhaps this is his way of saying good-bye. Perhaps he hadn't meant it literally when he'd told Duo he'd stay as long as Duo had wanted him to. Well, Duo Maxwell has never been one to make an unnecessary nuisance of himself... "Thanks for everything, Tro. You're right; I can manage on my own now. So you should go back and see what's wrong with Cathy and I'll..."

Duo's words trail off as Trowa's fingertips settle softly against his lips. The odd half-smile on Trowa's face is a little surprising.

"I was hoping you'd come with me," he says.

Duo feels the weight of Trowa's fingers lifting from his mouth, enabling him to respond. He does so with: "Huh?"

Trowa almost chuckles at Duo's flabbergasted expression. It's not often someone gets the drop on Duo Maxwell. "I need to see Cathy. You don't have anywhere you absolutely have to be right now. So... come with me."

"To the circus?" Duo finally asks.

Trowa nods. "Yes."

"You want to take me to the circus?" Duo inquires with a cocky grin beginning to curve his lips.

"I'll share my trailer with you," Trowa promises, eyes sparkling with mirth.

Duo laughs. "If you can say the magic word, it's a date."

Trowa sobers and murmurs, "Please?"

With a soft grin, Duo reaches up and glides the very tips of his fingers over the soft hair at Trowa's temple. "Sure thing."

"Thank you."

Duo blinks at Trowa's unexpected response. "For what, man?"

"For agreeing to come with me."

Duo snorts softly. "It's as you say, Tro. I haven't got anywhere else I need to be at this exact moment."

In reply, Trowa just gives him that tiny smile of his.

Cocking his head to one side, Duo adopts a speculative expression. "Doesn't Cathy hate me?"

Both of Trowa's eyebrows arc. "What? Cathy doesn't hate you."

"Strongly dislike?"

Trowa shakes his head. "Why do you ask?"

"The last time I saw her," he tells Trowa, "was right after you lost your memory. She seemed... less than thrilled to see me."

Trowa sighs without a sound. "You know, sometimes, I think she really is my older sister, the way she acts. She just wanted to protect me from getting hurt. She doesn't really hate you, Duo," he explains carefully so that there can be no misunderstandings.

"Hm," Duo says, nodding. "Okay, then. If you say so."

"I do," Trowa assures him.

There's a short pause, during which they find themselves just looking at each other. Trowa thinks back to that kiss they'd shared on the street. Still, they haven't touched like that again. Not even at the Waterlot. There certainly hadn't been a shortage of intimate moments that could have lead to more but every time one had come along, Trowa had ignored it. There's no use getting further involved in a relationship when it's inevitable that Duo will leave. Soon.

Duo takes his time engraving the face of his closest friend into his memory. He knows that, despite what Trowa has promised, he won't stay with Duo forever. Someday he won't need Trowa to be the voice of reason and sanity any more. And when that time comes, he owes it to Trowa to tell him. So that Trowa can get on with his life.

Duo's gaze roves to Trowa's mouth and stays there. He'd like to kiss Trowa again—well, he'd like to do a lot of things—but he holds himself back, knowing that the end is near if not in sight. And he's not sure about starting something that has no chance of lasting, not with the loss of his father so fresh, not with his strength this diminished.

Sensing Duo's gaze on his mouth, Trowa reaches for the first thing he can think of to say. "I'll go book our tickets, then."

"And warn Cathy," Duo replies with a grin, playing along, pretending that last moment hadn't happened.

"Yeah," Trowa agrees, sitting up and putting his boots on again. "Since we both know how much she _loves _you."

"Turd," Duo accuses, not moving from his sprawled position on the sleeping bags.

"That's _fish_ turd, to you."

Duo laughs.

**...**

**Tickets reserved** and a message left for Cathy, Trowa remains in front of his computer and stares at the open browser window. He berates himself for hesitating. He'd already decided he has to do this. For Duo. He'd sworn, at the beginning of this trip, to do _whatever_ Duo had required of him. The repercussions to Trowa himself had not been important. _Are _not important.

With a slow, deep breath, Trowa types in the words: _Captain Kurt Franklin United Earth Sphere __Alliance__._ Then commences his search with the press of the "enter" key.

The obituary is the first document on the short list of hits. He doesn't think about what he's doing, he simply opens the link and scans the document. He confirms the fact that Kurt Franklin had actually died; his remains had been matched to his Alliance DNA profile. With those words, the small whisper of hope he'd held is finally silenced. Duo had killed his father. There is no debating that now.

Trowa takes a moment to close his eyes and draw in a cleansing breath. When he looks at the computer screen again, he is ready for the next part of his assignment. Within ten minutes he has all of the information that he needs. He memorizes it and then proceeds to erase his user history. With that done, even though his pre-paid hour hasn't yet expired, Trowa departs.

He feels the need for some air... and a considerable distance between what he has to do and what he really wants.

**...**

**Duo glances** at his traveling companion in the adjoining seat. For the past ten hours, Trowa has been asleep. Or at least looking like it. Duo hasn't minded. He'd been busy trying to get the kid across the aisle to put his book down and play "I Spy." It had taken a while and a lot of persuasion but Duo had managed to get a few smiles out of the boy.

Duo opens his mouth to gently inform Trowa that they've started to enter the atmosphere but as soon as the whine of the engines increases in volume and the air resistance begins to pick up, his friend's eyes open of their own volition.

Watching Trowa straighten in his seat, Duo asks him, "Have you really been asleep all this time?"

Trowa arcs a brow and gives Duo an expectant look as if to ask, _What__ do you think?_

Duo shakes his head and sighs.

"Didn't want to get in the way of your... mission," Trowa finally tells him with a hint of humor.

Both of Duo's brows rise in silent inquiry.

Trowa nods across the aisle to the boy and his abandoned book.

"Oh," Duo replies softly with a secretive grin.

"Looks a little like Heero," Trowa comments neutrally.

A little startled, Duo studies Trowa's profile for a moment. "Yeah," he says, suddenly understanding why he'd been compelled to cheer the kid up. "I guess he does. A little."

Meeting Duo's gaze, Trowa tells him, "I'm sorry he didn't understand."

Duo fidgets in his seat and takes a deep, calming breath. "Doesn't matter, Tro. It all worked out okay in the end."

Trowa's eyes narrow at the weak smile Duo presents. "Still... he should have taken point when you needed him to."

Duo blinks. "Are you... mad at him?"

"Yes."

Duo blinks again. "Well... shit." He pauses and gathers his thoughts in order to some sort of explanation on Heero's behalf. "Look, man, Heero's a great guy to have at your back when bullets are flying but he's not exactly an expert on interpersonal communication, you know?" Duo leans back in his seat and sighs. "I chickened out. I couldn't tell him what was really going on with me and I think he knew it. I think maybe I hurt him when I did that. Hell, we'd been through a lot of shit together and I couldn't be completely honest with him. I don't really think he figured I'd take off like that. I think he told me to deal with it on my own in order to push me into telling him why I couldn't." A crooked grin makes a brief appearance. "But it totally backfired on him."

"That it did," Trowa agrees. "So you think he was trying to help."

"In his own little sick and twisted way, yeah, I do."

Trowa nods.

"So, um... Are you still mad at him?"

"Of course."

Duo chuckles. "I never figured you one to hold a grudge over something as little as that."

"Little?" Trowa returns, fixing his stare on Duo. "It was important to you. It should have been more important to him."

Duo takes a moment to study Trowa's features. "What's with you? Why does this bother you so much? So, okay, Heero isn't a candidate for the Friend of the Year Award, but so what? Everyone thinks he's perfect but he's not. Just because he happened to screw up with me this time doesn't make him—"

"The instant you were on a shuttle headed for L2, I was asleep on Earth, dreaming about you. That no one knew where you were and then when we found you, you wouldn't wake up. There was something wrong with you and none of us knew how to fix it. And all I could do was just watch you while you slept and wonder where you were and if you would be coming back to me. To us, I mean."

Duo stares at Trowa for a long moment following that murmured confession. "You... you dreamed about me?"

Looking uncomfortable, Trowa nods once.

"You came looking for me because of a dream?"

Duo watches Trowa swallow and glance in his direction. "Yes."

"But... it was just a dream," Duo begins, trying to understand.

"Was it?" Trowa replies. "I'd never had a dream like that, Duo. I'd never dreamed in such detail things that had never happened, emotions I'd never felt, regrets I'd never had." He pauses for a moment. "What would you have done?"

"I..." Duo looks away before admitting, "I would have called Cathy to see how you were doing."

"And when you found out that I'd taken off? That I'd been having nightmares so violent that I'd been waking up everyone within shouting distance? That I left to deal with this on my own?"

"Jesus," Duo grumbles. "You make it sound like I was one step away from blowing my brains out."

"The thought had never crossed your mind?"

Duo doesn't answer. He doesn't have to. Only the fear of an eternity in his own, personal Hell drowning in his own guilt and surrounded by the condemning glares of his dead had stopped him from seriously considering taking his own life. He glances down at the feel of long fingers threading between his. As Trowa clasps his hand, Duo looks up at him.

With Trowa's warm gaze focused on him, he confesses to Duo, "I wasn't going to tell you about the dream."

"Why not?"

"Because it sounds..."

"Crazy?" Duo finishes for him. "As if fighting a lost cause for the sake of the colonies isn't?"

One corner of Trowa's mouth kicks up. "So long as we understand each other..."

"We do, Tro," Duo tells him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "We really do."

**...**

**"Trowa!"******

Duo steps out of the way and watches Cathy pull Trowa into her arms. He doesn't have to imagine the relief and elation in her voice. It's not only there, but on her face as well.

"Cathy," Trowa greets, one arm carefully circling her shoulders. Even though he doesn't return her enthusiastic embrace fully, Duo notes that Cathy doesn't seem to mind.

After a moment, she steps back and looks at Duo. "Hello, Duo. It's good to see you again."

"Thanks, Cathy. Good to be here."

"How was your flight? You look tired. Do you want something to eat?"

Trowa chuckles, drawing Cathy's attention back to him. "We're fine," he tells her then studies her more closely. "Have you been sleeping since I last spoke to you?"

"Of course," she tells him brightly. "But you know how busy things can get around here..."

"Hm," he replies, not convinced. "So everything's all right?"

"Couldn't be better," Cathy assures him.

In silence, Duo takes in their exchange, noting the tension in the air between them. Although he hadn't seen them interact all that much before, he doubts things really are all right. The forced smiles and lingering tension more than convince Duo that something is very off. He listens to Cathy fill Trowa in on all of the things that have happened since he'd left and knows that he can't just stand by and watch these two grow apart. Cathy is Trowa's home and Duo promises to do everything he can to sort this mess out. It is, after all, the very least he could do for his closest friend.

**...**

**_"My name is_**_ Trowa Barton."_

He places the call in the middle of the night. Trowa doesn't bother with a live feed. For what he must do, a prerecorded message is more than sufficient. He allows the soldier in him to come out for this task. He does what is necessary. He does one thing at a time. He is careful, methodical, precise.

_"I was a rebel soldier during the war."_

Only later, as he watches Duo sleep in their shared bunk does he permit himself to think about what he has just done. He's set the events in motion that will eventually lead to Duo's discontinued dependence.

_"I met a young man during the war who called himself Duo Maxwell. We fought for the same causes, most of the time."_

Trowa lowers himself carefully to the bed but remains awake. It's strange, but as often as he's told himself that someday Duo will no longer need him, Trowa still can't accept the fact that he'll soon be alone again. But he'd promised to do whatever Duo had needed of him. And he'd promised not only himself, but Kurt Franklin.

_"We trusted each other with our lives but only recently have we become friends."_

The evening he'd confirmed the captain's death, Trowa had gone to the memorial site and paid his respects to the engraved plaque commemorating Duo's father. He'd sworn to help Duo through this, to look after him, to help him get on with his life. Even if that meant that Duo must leave him, must look into the faces of those who can give him absolution and wait for their judgment.

_"And when he told me the story of his past, I knew I had to contact you."_

The beginning of the end, that is what this is, Trowa knows. His eyes squeeze shut as Duo rolls over in his sleep and settles against his shoulder. Trowa turns his face toward that messy braid and inhales. This time he detects not the complimentary shampoo from the inn, not the cheap 2-in-1 they'd been using in outer space, but his own soap—the soap he'd left behind when he'd gone to look for Duo.

_"I know what I'm about to say will be difficult to believe."_

The last thing he wants is to let Duo go, but Trowa doesn't see that he has any other choice. Duo cannot go on like this, floundering in the past. He must deal, adapt, survive. Trowa only hopes that someday, Duo will accept that Trowa's actions had been done out of friendship and love.

_"Duo Maxwell is not his given name. It's the name of a lost child who grew up an orphan on the streets. It's the name chosen by a little boy who couldn't remember that his real name had once been Jesse Franklin..."_

**End of Chapter 13**

[21] From "Episode Zero."


	14. Chapter 14: Family Ties

**Shinigami Sleeps**

**Chapter 14: Family Ties**

**"Morning, Cathy."**

"Good morning, Duo," she replies with a smile.

Sliding into the seat opposite her, Duo blows softly on the surface of his cup of coffee. He looks up at her through his lashes and notes her overly pale complexion, the slump of her shoulders, and the dark shadows beneath her usually vibrant eyes. For the past six days, Duo has stood aside and simply observed Trowa and Cathy, hoping that they might resolve their tension themselves. With a small sigh, Duo accepts the fact that he can't hold back his desire to partially return the favor of friendship Trowa had offered him.

He clears his throat and glances around the mess hall. He nods to a few fellow mechanics before returning his gaze to the young woman opposite him. "So where's Tro?"

"He's already started going through his routines."

"This early?" Duo replies, brows rising. After a moment, he shakes his head and takes a sip from his mug. "I didn't even hear him leave."

"You say that like it's unusual," she replies with a small laugh.

Duo grins back and shrugs. "It is. But since we got here, he's gotten really good at sneaking out of the trailer before I wake up."

"Sounds like he's avoiding both of us," Cathy observes, offering Duo a sad smile.

"Um... Yeah," Duo agrees uneasily. "Look, about that, Cath..."

"Yes, Duo?"

He hesitates for a moment longer, giving himself one last chance to back off. But he doesn't. "What's the deal between you and Tro? I can tell something's off."

Cathy wraps an arm around her stomach almost pulling herself into a protective position. For some reason, the posture strikes a chord in Duo and his mind supplies a possibility he doesn't want to consider.

"It's... it's not... is it, uh, a romantic problem?" he carefully ventures.

Cathy's gaze snaps up to Duo's in surprise. "What?" she chokes out.

Duo finds himself incapable of doing much more than looking uncomfortable. The image he presents is obviously too funny for words. In short order, Cathy is laughing so hard, tears of hysteric mirth are streaming down her face. Heads turn at nearby tables and Duo casts about for something to say.

Gasping for breath, Cathy manages, "Spoken like someone in love."

Duo's jaw drops. "What? No! I mean, I... I just... um..."

Cradling her jaw in one palm, Cathy tells him softly, "It's okay, Duo. What's between Trowa and I isn't romantic. He might love me, but he's in love with you."

Taking a moment to absorb that, he takes another drink. He's not sure what to make of Cathy's assurances. He's not entirely sure he wants to think about them at the moment. He focuses on keeping the conversation on track. "So what's the problem, then?"

She cocks her head to the side and looks inquisitive.

"Don't sit there and tell me the two of you are just peachy, because you're not," he dares. Cathy wilts a little in her seat and Duo continues gently, "What happened, Cath?"

"Why are you asking, Duo?" she replies, looking wounded.

Her pain catches him off-guard. He draws a deep breath and tells her, "I'm sorry. It's just... Trowa knows something's wrong and I think it's hurting him that you won't tell him. He's my friend... the best friend I've had in a really long time. I can't just watch both of you continue hurting like this, you know?"

Cathy sighs and crosses her arms against her stomach. Leaning closer, she demands, "You won't say anything to him, will you?"

Duo sighs. "_I_ won't," he promises, "but you'd better."

One corner of her mouth twitches. "Maybe you can help me figure out how to tell him?"

"Yeah," he agrees with a grin, "I think I might be able to do that."

A moment of understanding holds them close before Cathy tells him, "Thanks."

Duo arcs a brow at her. "Maybe you should tell me what it is before you thank me?"

"Oh, I suppose." The light, playful air between them vanishes as she begins to speak softly, afraid of being overheard. "I was in the communications trailer the other day, looking for some old contracts. We've begun booking our performances and the mayor of Luxembourg threw a fit when he found out we were planning to be in outer space for the first week of August. Apparently, we have a standing agreement with his city to be there for the fifth." Cathy waves her hand, dismissing the details. "Anyway, the manager asked me to dig up the paperwork, if we had it.

"So I was going through these boxes and I found an old photo album. I wasn't going to look through it. Why bother, right? But the stack I set it on fell over and some of the photos came loose. I was putting it back together when I found a picture of my parents. And me. And my little brother."

She pauses then, remembering.

"You have a brother?" Duo presses.

"I _had_ a brother," she tells him. "He and my parents were killed during a rebel attack when I was just a little girl."

"I'm sorry, Cathy. I—"

She holds up a hand to stall him. "But when I saw those pictures again, details that I suppose I'd forgotten came back. I remembered that Dad had this soft, golden brown hair that fell over his brow all the time and these gentle green eyes. I remembered the explosion and the fire that had killed them and I remembered the burn scars on Trowa's back. He's the right age, too..." [22]

"Hold up," Duo interrupts. "You think Trowa might be your little brother?"

Cathy leans over the table and confides, "Yes." She shifts in her seat and tells him the rest of her story, "Several weeks ago, Trowa and I were practicing this new knife-throwing act and I..." She blushes. "I nicked him on purpose. Just on the arm," Cathy hurries to assure him. "I used a clean handkerchief to wipe away the blood and I took it to a local clinic to be tested.

"Duo," she confesses, tears glittering on her lashes, "they did a blood test. Trowa and I share a little over thirty-one per cent of our DNA. That's a match. We _are_ related. He _is_ my brother, Triton."

Duo leans back, both hands still wrapped around his cooling mug. "Jesus," he mutters. "How long have you known?"

Looking a little embarrassed, Cathy replies honestly, "I got the results the day before he left to look for you. I... I tried to stop him from going. I'm sorry, Duo. I was just... I was afraid that fate would take him away again and I—"

"I understand, Cathy," Duo consoles, reaching across the table to touch her hand. "It's okay. He helped me and made it back here safe."

"You'll keep an eye on him for me, won't you?"

"Whenever I can," he promises with a sad smile.

Catching that bittersweet expression, Cathy blinks. "What? What are you talking about?" She gasps. "You're not thinking of leaving are you?"

Withdrawing his hand again, Duo sighs. "He's going to get tired of looking after me, eventually. I've got a lot of... issues, Cathy. I'm real messed up. I can't hang around being a pain in the ass forever."

"But you're not. Trowa doesn't think of you like that, he—"

"Has he told you this himself?" Duo inquires quickly before she can succeed in breathing hope back into his beaten-up soul.

She hesitates. "Well, no. But I can see it," Cathy assures him with all sincerity. At his questioning look, she continues, "It's the way he looks at you, the way he doesn't hesitate to touch you." She pauses, suddenly thoughtful. "Do you think Trowa knows you're planning on leaving?"

Duo shrugs. "Maybe. I've made it clear I don't expect him to babysit me forever."

"Well," she tells him in her best older-sister tone, "if he knows you aren't committed to staying with him that would explain his recent avoidance."

Duo winces. "You make it sound like we're heading for... well, something we aren't. I'm not... I just can't..." He sighs for what feels like the hundredth time in the last hour. "Trowa deserves better."

Cathy levels a finger in front of his nose. "Shut up, Duo Maxwell. I'm not going to sit here and listen to that crap. Trowa wants you in his life and if you hurt him, I'll break your legs."

Duo blinks. "And here I thought we were finally getting along..."

She smiles. "But we are. And we will, just as long as you understand where I'm coming from here."

"Uhm... yeah," Duo responds, hiding behind a sip of lukewarm coffee.

"You know, I was never really mad at _you_, Duo, for finding Trowa after he'd lost his memory," she says somewhat suddenly.

"Really?" Duo replies with no small amount of disbelief.

"Yes, really," Cathy assures him. "I was angry with the war, with what Trowa had already sacrificed for it. I just wanted to give him the fresh start he deserved. But... but you were right. You all were." She smiles apologetically. "I couldn't stop the past from catching up to him. At least with his memories, he was prepared to deal with it."

Duo shakes his head. "Trowa's lucky to have a sister like you, Cath. Really, really lucky."

She attempts to smile at that, but it's a bit wobbly. "Thank you, Duo."

"No problem."

Drawing in a cleansing breath, Cathy broaches the original subject again, "So what am I going to tell him?"

Duo shrugs. "I don't see anything wrong with the way you told me..." He pauses as a part of her story comes back to him. "But, depending on how close the resemblance is in those pictures, you might want to show him those when you tell him."

She nods, accepting the advice. Then a conspiratorial light enters her eyes. "You want to see them?"

"Yeah. Sure." He nods to his coffee. "Just let me dump this out."

Cathy nods and Duo pushes himself away from the table. During the short trip to the sink, Duo's mind begins to process what Cathy has just told him.

_Jesus._ Trowa has a sister. Irrationally, Duo is immediately jealous. How is it that Trowa had gone through the war blowing up everything in sight but had somehow managed not to destroy his family? How is it Cathy had survived but Kurt had not?

With shaking hands, Duo dumps the contents of the mug down the drain and washes up his cup.

It's now very clear to Duo that he doesn't belong here. Once Trowa finds out that he has a sister, Duo's welcome will be officially worn out. But he finds he can't really get angry about this. After all, why wouldn't he give them the space they need to reaffirm their bonds? Why wouldn't he be happy for Trowa? Or, Triton, rather. That had been the name Cathy had used, hadn't it?

Duo decides to be happy about this. Later, if he needs to mourn for his own loses, he will. Just not now. Not now.

He turns and approaches Cathy with a grin. "Okay, Cath. Where's this work of art?"

She smiles. "Right this way..."

He follows her out of the mess hall and along the grassy path to the communications trailer. They don't say much as they walk and when they arrive at their destination, Cathy knocks on the door to be sure the room isn't occupied before ushering him inside. Duo plops down in the chair behind the blank vid screen and watches Cathy unbury the box containing the photo album.

"Have you thought of putting those photos on a data disk for safe keeping?" he ventures.

She grins at him as she leans over the carton, lid in hand. "What do you think I've been doing with myself when I haven't been able to sleep?"

"Grooming the elephants? Talking to the lions?"

She rolls her eyes. "Even they get tired of me after a few hours."

"No! Really? I don't believe it."

She snorts. "Jerk."

Duo grins.

Cathy lifts out the heavy tome and offers it to her new friend with both hands. Gingerly, Duo accepts it and places it on the desk. "This looks like it's about ready to fall apart," he mutters, almost afraid to touch it.

She reaches past his shoulder and opens the album. "Just don't breathe hard," she advises.

"Or what? It'll turn to dust?"

Cathy smiles and continues flipping carefully through the yellowed pages until: "Here." Duo turns his attention to the page she's pointing to and has his first look at Trowa's family.

"Is this you?" he asks indicating a little girl posing in a pink tutu.

"Yup."

"You were cute," he tells her.

Her eyebrows arc. "I _was_ cute?"

Duo grins unrepentantly up at her. "Yeah. What happened, Cath?"

"I met you," she tells him with a huff.

He snorts and turns back to the pictures. "These your parents?"

"Yeah," she tells him, her voice softening.

Duo studies the people in the photograph carefully. "You weren't imagining it," he says. "There is a really strong resemblance between Trowa and your dad."

Her gaze follows Duo's finger to the face in the picture. "That's my _mom,_" Cathy corrects and Duo sniggers. "Can you be serious about _anything?_" she asks.

"Sorry," Duo replies, contrite. "It's just kind of weird knowing Tro and I don't have the whole family-less thing in common anymore."

A hand settles on his shoulder. "I know, Duo. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to it, either."

"Well, you'd better," Duo replies. "Because if you hurt him I'll break your legs."

Cathy laughs.

"We'll tell him," Duo promises her after a moment. "I'll help you."

Her expression softens. "Thanks, Duo."

"You're welcome, Cathy."

She nods. "Well... I... thank you for listening, Duo. I feel much better now that I'm not the only one who knows."

"Yeah," Duo says, voice gruff. "I know what that's like."

A small instant of silence settles between them before Cathy thinks to offer to put the album away.

"Actually, do you mind if I look through it for a while?"

"Not at all." She gives Duo's shoulder a small squeeze before maneuvering past him to the open doorway. "I'll see you later, Duo," she calls back.

"Later, Cath."

Only after she's disappeared down the path does Duo allow himself to look at the pictures of Trowa and his family again. It's in this moment that his mind decides _now_ is _later_ and the churning emotions he'd pushed aside in the mess hall crash into him. On either side of the open volume, his hands fist. He stares at the faces smiling up at him until his vision blurs. Perhaps it's the contrast between having spent so much time, day and night, with Trowa and now suddenly realizing that Trowa _doesn't_ need him anymore, understanding that Trowa has a family, knowing that Trowa isn't alone... but Duo is feeling more lost than he can ever recall.

His first instinct is to leave, but he can't. He'd promised to help Cathy tell Trowa. And he will. With a deep breath, Duo closes his eyes and resigns himself to staying on at the circus for a bit longer. One thing's for sure: he absolutely cannot think about this anymore for a while. Time to get to work. Maybe the mechanics have something for him to work on. Or perhaps he can break something in order to fix it.

Deciding on that plan, Duo collects the album and carefully packs it back into its box. He's just settled the lid in place when the vid phone beeps, alerting him to an in-coming call.

With a faint frown, he settles back in the chair and activates the viewer. As it warms up, he turns on the audio.

"Hello?"

There's a slight hesitation. "Hello. Is... Trowa Barton there?"

"Yeah," Duo says, squinting at the screen as it finally reveals a dim ghost of a face. "Can you hold on for a few minutes? Or I can have him call you back if... you... want..."

The screen now fully illuminated and the ancient camera now transmitting his own image to the caller, Duo stares into a face so familiar it rips a hole in his heart. The light brown hair and trimmed mustache, the hazel eyes... Oh, yes, Duo knows this face. Has memorized it, tortured himself with the recollection of it. Speaking becomes impossible. All he is capable of is gazing at the face on the screen.

Equally stunned, the man stares at the young man with dark blue eyes, uncomprehending. Finally, he gathers his voice enough to enunciate, "Jesse?"

Duo feels his eyes begin to fill with hot tears. His body begins to tremble so badly his breath shudders out of him. And with it, a single word, "D-dad?"

**...**

**As soon as** Cathy enters the tent, Trowa knows he won't be able to continue his practice. One glance at her tells him this much. Her shoulders are stiff and her arms are crossed tightly over her chest. He can easily imagine her narrowed eyes.

He sighs. It seems she's determined to give him a good talking-to. Knowing he'll be able to get back to work sooner if he just lets her vent, Trowa descends the trapeze ladder. He gracefully leaps the last few rungs and gives her his undivided attention.

"Trowa Barton," she addresses him and Trowa figures he's about to get smacked. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to. Cathy's already getting right to the point. "What have you done to Duo?"

He frowns. This is unexpected.

"Do you know that he's thinking about leaving already?"

Trowa feels a small tingling of panic at her words. Duo can't leave. Not yet. He has no where to go...

"But really, why wouldn't he?" she continues. "If you've been avoiding him like you've been avoiding me it's no wonder. He probably thinks you're tired of him hanging around. That you're just feeling sorry for him or something."

"That's not it, Cathy," Trowa attempts to interject on his own behalf.

"Oh, well that's a relief to hear. Too bad you're telling that to the _wrong_ person!"

He blinks at her, stunned by her vehemence.

"Argh!" she huffs, throwing up her hands. "Men! I give up. I. Just. Give. Up."

Trowa remains right where he's standing for a long moment, frowning after her. It had been a long, _long_ time since he'd seen her get this worked up about something. Are things really as bad as she says? Is Duo packing his things at this very moment?

That last thought spurs him into action.

Abandoning his morning exercises, Trowa strides outside and heads straight for the trailer he's been sharing with Duo. As he traverses the grounds, he attempts to generate a logical reason for Duo to stay at the circus a little longer. At least until Trowa has fulfilled his promise.

He doubts Duo is honestly going to believe Trowa's excuses for avoiding him. Trowa knows he's going to have to stop trying to distance himself from Duo. Actions do speak louder than words, after all. But that isn't going to change the fact that Duo _will_ leave. Chest aching in anticipation of the inevitable separation, Trowa accepts the fact that this is simply going to hurt like hell. There is no way to avoid it. Especially since emotionally distancing himself is no longer an option.

Trowa cuts across the lawn behind the utility trailer and ducks beneath the uniformly stretched laundry lines weighted down with linens waving in the slight breeze and jogs up to the door of his objective. He knocks once before opening the door. Blinking to encourage his eyes to adjust to the shadows within, he calls, "Duo?"

There is no reply.

His grip around the door latch tightens until he notes the location of Duo's pack. It's still stowed under the bunk and mostly deflated.

Trowa leans against the doorframe and breathes deeply in relief. Okay, so Duo hasn't packed... yet. But perhaps...

With an irritated growl, Trowa retreats into the bright morning once and takes off again. As he strides towards his new destination, Trowa realizes that Duo probably won't go anywhere until he has a means of leaving. His gaze seeks out each truck and notes its location. All are accounted for and none are currently being given a thorough inspection by Duo. He leans into the mess hall doorway and scans the kitchen and pantry areas. But there is no figure with a long braid tucking rations into his pockets.

Without a word to the few lingering occupants, Trowa backs out into the sunlight and continues his search. Another possibility, he knows, is that Duo has just wandered off for a little time to plan out his next step. Trowa realizes that he may have to resign himself to waiting for him back at the trailer. But before he does that, he'll check one more place...

He blinks when he turns the corner and realizes that the door of the communications trailer is standing open and Duo is leaning over the desk to answer a vid call.

Trowa moves out of the immediate line of sight and pauses to think. He can't just rush in there and tell Duo that Cathy had told Trowa he'd been talking about leaving... can he? Trowa rethinks his strategy. Why can't he simply tell Duo that much of the truth? Still... how to explain his avoidance?

Trowa is still mulling this over when he hears an unfamiliar voice echo over the vid link, saying his name. For the briefest instant, he wonders who could possibly be calling for him. But then the answer hits him like a physical blow.

He reaches for the doorway just as Duo's reply trails off. Knowing that the circus's ancient vid screen has finally warmed up, he tries to prepare himself for the worst.

"Jesse?"

Trowa winces at the hopeful desperation in the man's voice. _Shit._

"D-dad?"

The breathless ache behind Duo's stutter is the only warning Trowa has before he steps through the doorway. And with a glance, he realizes that the situation is much, much worse than he'd anticipated.

Immediately, he goes to Duo and gathers his shuddering body into his arms. With a quick glance at the screen, Trowa reaches around Duo's body long enough to disconnect the call without a word to the man still gaping on the screen. He doesn't even briefly consider guiding Duo, as he is, across the grounds to their trailer. Trowa kicks the door shut behind him and tightens his embrace around Duo.

"It's okay, Duo," he murmurs. "I'm here now. I'm right here..."

Still stiff and shaking, Duo whispers fiercely, "It is _not_ okay! I just... I just saw my... my... He's alive?" Head bowed, forehead pressing against Trowa's sternum, Duo shakes his head. "No. No. He's dead. I... Shinigami killed him."

"Duo," Trowa beckons, attempting to get his attention.

"And what the _fuck_ was he doing calling _you?_" Duo fairly shouts finally leaning back far enough to glare into Trowa's mellow, concerned gaze.

"Duo, I—"

"That's some sense of timing you've got there, man." Duo's eyes narrow further. "You've been avoiding me like I'm the fucking plague all week and _now_ you show up? What the _hell?_"

Trowa sighs and looks squarely back at Duo. Hands fisted at his sides and breath coming hard, the former Deathsycthe pilot is a formidable sight. So much so that Trowa resigns himself to having this conversation whether either of them is really ready for it or not.

**End of Chapter 14**

[22] From "Episode Zero." At the conclusion of Trowa's chapter, there's a one-page collection of three short articles called "Trowa's Story."


	15. Chapter 15: The Search for Absolution

**From The Manwell: **I hereby dedicate this chapter to those of you who are ready to disembowel me for working in the whole "I have to leave him; it's for the best" thing. (Although, I must say in my defense, that I really can see Trowa and Duo - both of them are rather like "lone wolfs" - falling back on that particular mindset. I'm not saying _I_ like it or anything. But I can see this as a... "habit" both of them will have to deal with in themselves and each other. But I digress...) Hopefully, things will start to make a little more sense. Maybe.

**...**

**Shinigami Sleeps**

**Chapter 15: The Search for Absolution**

**"So, when _exactly_** were you planning on telling me about this?" Duo demands in a low hiss.

"When you were ready—" Trowa begins to say.

"When I was _ready?_" Duo fairly explodes. "How in the hell am I supposed to be _more_ ready for hearing that my father's really _alive?_"

"Duo, wait—"

"You sick bastard. I can't believe you! How could you let me go on thinking I'd killed him?!" Duo shoves Trowa away from him, a look of pure loathing transforming his gaze into something hard and cold. Having nothing further to say to the man in front of him, Duo reaches for the door knob.

The next instant finds Duo turned completely around, his back slamming into the door and Trowa's arm pressed across his chest. "You want the truth, Duo?" Trowa replies softly in deft contrast to his strength. "Here it is: when I started looking for you, I promised myself I'd do whatever I had to in order to help you. Whatever you needed. Whatever you wanted. It didn't matter what it was because I was going to give it to you."

"Jesus," Duo spits out after a moment of stunned silence. "So the whole thing—all of it—was to ease _your_ conscience?" He snorts derisively. "Well, this just keeps getting better and better."

"Shut _up_, Duo," Trowa replies harshly, shoving him back against the door again. "Maybe it was about me. Maybe I needed to do this for me as much as for you, but there is not a day we've spent together that I haven't wished it would last ten years instead of twenty-four hours. I _wanted_ to be there with you. And that's the problem because it's not about what I _want._ It's about what you _need_ in order to get on with your life!"

Silence rings through the small, cluttered room in the wake of Trowa's declaration. Several heartbeats pound off in Duo's chest before he can begin to gather his thoughts. Trowa also calms. Almost in unison, their breathing slows and tempers settle. And that's when the enormity of Trowa's emotional outburst becomes evident.

Duo searches Trowa's expression for hints of regret but he finds none. Trowa simply waits, his stoic mask abandoned, for Duo's verdict. Duo isn't quite sure of what to say, to _think._ Deliberately, he focuses on Trowa's actions, saving the sorting out of emotions for later. Although Duo realizes that Trowa must care about him very much if he went to the effort of trying to find some way to release Duo from his guilt.

Slightly mollified, but still wary, Duo summarizes, "So you checked to see if Kurt Franklin was really dead."

"Yeah," Trowa tells him, relaxing further, glad that his emotional outburst is not the new focal point of the conversation. "I checked."

"And he's not," Duo states flatly.

Trowa sighs and releases his hold completely. "No, he is, Duo. I'm sorry. Kurt Franklin died in the explosion."

For a moment, Duo simply stares back at him. "What the hell? I _saw_ him! He just _called_ you—"

"That wasn't your father."

Pause. "What?"

Carefully settling his hands on Duo's shoulders, Trowa tells him, "That is your father's brother, Ernest Franklin."

Slumping back against the door, Duo swallows once, thinking. "But that's not possible... He _looked_ just like him. They'd have to be—"

"Twins?" Trowa supplies softly.

"Yeah. Twins." He considers Trowa for a moment. "How'd you find out? Driver's license photo?"

"Passport."

Duo nods. "So that's my uncle."

"Yeah."

"And my father's still dead."

"Yes."

"And I'm still the one who killed him."

"Duo..."

"Aren't I?" Duo demands, voice rising.

"Yes," Trowa replies honestly. "I'm sorry."

Duo nods.

For a long moment, neither speaks. They simply stand facing each other, absorbing what has just happened.

Then, with a sigh, Duo reaches up to massage his temples. "You never answered my question," he mutters.

"Which one?"

Dropping his hands, Duo supplies, "When were you going to tell me?"

"Soon. I was waiting to hear if he was... receptive to meeting you, to hearing your story."

Duo's entire body seems to freeze. "You haven't told him."

"No, I haven't. And I wasn't going to until I'd spoken to you about it." Trowa studies Duo's downcast gaze as best he can. "Do you want me to tell him?"

Duo shrugs. "I... I don't know." He pauses then finally meets Trowa's gaze. "He called here... does that mean he wants to meet me?"

"It might," Trowa admits. He watches Duo shudder once and wrap his arms around himself.

"I have an uncle," he wonders softly to himself.

"And an aunt and a couple of cousins."

The muscles along Duo's jaw tense in an effort to hold back the emotion those facts invoke. After a long pause, Duo whispers, "I don't want to tell them, Tro. What will they think when they find out? They'll hate me."

"They won't hate you, Duo," he whispers back, gently dragging his hands up Duo's shoulders to slide his fingers into his hair and cradle his skull. "They'll be sad, maybe they'll be angry, but that's what war does to people. What happened was the result of war; it was _not_ your fault."

"I can't tell them," Duo confesses. "I... can't."

Trowa's expression softens further. "Duo, you're hurting so badly over this—and you have every right to—but you need to heal." He takes a deep breath and tells him, "I can't heal you, Duo. And it doesn't matter how badly I want to, I can't. I can't absolve you of your past. I just don't have the power to do it. But your aunt and uncle..."

Through parted lips, Duo breathes, "Do you really think they'll forgive me?"

"Yes," Trowa replies very quietly. "That's what families are for." He pauses then, and amends, "Or so I've heard."

That gets a brief half-smile out of Duo. In the closed quarters of the communications trailer, bodies nearly pressing against each other, Trowa and Duo share another one of those moments with the potential to take them further and farther into each other's souls.

"Okay," Duo says into the intimate silence.

"Okay what?" Trowa replies, not even trying to break the moment.

"Okay, let's call him back."

"Right now?"

Duo shrugs. "Yeah. And if he wants to meet me, I'll go see him."

"Just like that? You don't want to think it over?"

"No, I don't want to think about it at all."

Trowa feels himself being drawn closer to the young man before him as the double meaning in those words registers. In all honesty, Trowa doesn't want to think about it, either. But he has to. Reluctantly, he guides the conversation back. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"Of course."

Trowa nods and reluctantly withdraws his hands from Duo's hair. "Then I'll call him."

Duo watches Trowa's withdraw and knows now is not the time to push the established boundaries of their friendship. Duo forces one corner of his mouth upward into something resembling a smile. "Okay," he says.

**...**

**"Déjà vu,"** Cathy muses aloud with a gentle smile as she watches Trowa fold a pair of jeans into his duffle bag.

He glances over his shoulder at her. "Yeah," he agrees. "But I'll be coming back sooner this time."

Her eyebrows arc at that. "You're sure? Won't Duo want to stay and get reacquainted with his family for a while?"

"I'm sure he will."

There's a telling pause after which Trowa can almost _feel_ Cathy's eyes narrowing. "You're not planning on staying with him."

"If everything goes well," Trowa says with indifference, "he won't be needing me for much longer."

Cathy snorts. "You are, without a doubt, a moron."

Trowa arcs a brow at her in silence. He considers replying to her challenge but the trailer door opens, admitting Duo and his freshly laundered clothes.

"Hey," he says, looking from Trowa's idle hands to Cathy's intimidating stare. "Am I... interrupting something?"

"Yes, thank God," Trowa deadpans, resuming his task.

Cathy sighs at Trowa and then turns to grin at Duo. "Good luck, Duo."

"Thanks, Cath."

The two of them are silent for a moment, sharing a look of understanding. Duo nods, indicating that he hasn't forgotten about helping Cathy tell Trowa the news, but they both know that now is not the time to do that.

"Keep an eye on my little Trowa," she tells Duo.

Swallowing back his laughter, Duo looks over at the young man who is currently taller than not only himself but Cathy, as well. "Yeah, sure," Duo says lightly. "No problem."

Trowa doesn't deign to comment beyond a soft snort.

Duo turns back to say good-bye to Cathy and finds himself embraced and her thick, auburn hair brushing over his cheek. "Take care, Duo. And remember you've always got a home here, just in case this other one doesn't work out."

Bringing one arm around her shoulders, Duo returns the hug. "Thanks, Cath. That means a lot to me."

"_You_ mean a lot to _me_," she confides in a whisper too soft for Trowa to hear. "So you'd better come back and see me, Duo Maxwell."

Duo's eyes close for a moment before he can summon a cheerful grin. "Count on it, Catherine Bloom."

"I will," she assures him, finally leaning away.

Duo watches her head for the door and realizes, with a start, that she hasn't said good bye to Trowa. "Hey, Cath, aren't you gonna give Tro-bear a hug?"

Turning in the doorway, Cathy informs him in a loud voice and with a militant gleam in her eyes, "Trowa doesn't need a hug. He needs a swift kick in the pants. Have a good trip, guys!"

And then she's gone.

Duo blinks after her for an instant before turning to inquire of Trowa, "Dude, what did you do to piss her off so bad?"

Trowa shrugs and zips his duffle closed. "She knows I don't do good-byes."

"Hm," Duo replies, noting that detail.

Bag in hand, Trowa asks, "Ready to go?"

With a grin, Duo shoulders his pack. "Just waiting for you."

For a moment, Trowa hesitates. His gaze moves over Duo for an instant before saying evenly, "Then let's go."

**...**

**"Can you see them?"** Duo says under his breath, careful to stay behind Trowa and mostly obscured by the other disembarking passengers.

"Yes," he hears.

"How... how do they look?" Duo inquires, knowing full well he could risk a glance over Trowa's shoulder and see for himself.

There's slight pause and the tone of Trowa's voice tells Duo he's somewhat amused: "Nervous."

The corners of Duo's mouth curve just slightly. "That makes three of us," Duo sighs out, suddenly relieved that his three cousins couldn't be here for this impromptu meeting. Trowa had asked about them for Duo, learning that two are currently studying at the University of Edinburgh and the third is working in London. Duo feels a bit guilty for being glad he can put off meeting them, but this reunion is going to be hard enough without their added presence.

Duo shuffles along with the rest of the crowd, hating himself for being so glad Trowa is with him. _I should be stronger. I need to be stronger._ But just not right now. _Tomorrow,_ Duo promises himself and Trowa,_ I'll do better tomorrow..._

Tomorrow will know his fate, in any case. He'd already discussed with Trowa when and how he is going to tell Earnest and Mara and he'd decided not to leave the shuttleport without coming clean.

_At least this way we won't have to impose on their hospitality if they can't... if things go badly._ In eight hours, there would be a disembarking shuttle that could take them back to the circus and two seats had already been reserved.

"Mr. and Mrs. Franklin?" Trowa's says softly.

Behind him, Duo closes his eyes for a moment and draws a deep breath.

"Yes," Duo hears a woman say pleasantly. "Are you Trowa?"

Trowa nods and holds out his hand. "Trowa Barton," he says before shifting slightly to the side to allow Duo to step forward. "And Duo Maxwell," he continues introducing his friend without waiting for Duo to find his own voice.

In an attempt to banish his anxiety, he quickly offers his hand to the couple standing opposite of him. The moment lengthens as neither Earnest nor Mara accept it. He feels his smile begin to strain as his aunt and uncle continue staring at him, faces unreadable.

"Uh..." Duo begins and glances nervously at Trowa.

The soft noise jolts Earnest from his shock. "Jesse! It really is you!"

And before Duo can consider replying, Earnest has pulled him into a full hug.

"For a minute there I thought I was seeing..." Earnest's voice trails off as he leans back to address Duo directly. "Don't take this the wrong way, lad, but you've got Sylvia's look about you."

"It must be the braid," Duo quips with a casual smile to hide his heavier emotions.

"Oh my, I'd say you'd have had her beat by a good eight inches," Mara says with a smile.

Earnest steps back, his hands still on Duo's shoulders as if expecting him to disappear like a figment of his imagination. "I thought you couldn't remember them..." he wonders aloud, eyes searching Duo's face.

With an effort, Duo forces himself not to hide behind one of his familiar masks. "I can't," he confirms. "I..." Duo takes a deep breath, feeling suddenly shaky. Then a touch at the small of his back reminds him that he's not alone. Trowa is here. Voice soft but strong, expression sincere, Duo tells them, "Before you decide to welcome me into your family, there's something I need to tell you... something you need to know..."

**End of Chapter 15**

**From The Manwell: **Yeah, isn't Cathy great? I didn't expect her to be so cool and so strong when I started this story. Note to self, must write more "Cathy Kicks Ass" fics...


	16. Chapter 16: Confessions

**From The Manwell: **Hey! Thanks for the reviews! It's nice to know I'm still in the good graces of (at least) a few of you folks!

**...**

**Shinigami Sleeps**

**Chapter 16: Confessions**

**In the far** corner of the shuttleport's café, Trowa listens to Duo's soft but firm voice as he relates his story. Duo leaves nothing out, explaining how he'd survived on the streets, that he'd been taken in and cared for by the priest and nun at Maxwell Church. He speaks of the rebels who'd broken in, his promise to steal them a mobile suit, and the Alliance attack that had destroyed everything Duo had held dear. [23]

"I swore to avenge their deaths," Duo tells them, his tone never rising although he does pause for a moment and Trowa knows he's fighting to keep his voice from breaking. His hands are clasped tightly on the table but he doesn't look at them. He addresses the brother of the man he'd killed.

"It became my life's pursuit to turn myself into a lethal machine."

Their secluded booth sees unnaturally silent as Duo's voice gains an edge of anger. Trowa understands that, in order for him to get it all out, he has to get angry.

"As much as I hated the rebel groups for continuing the war on the colony, I hated the Alliance more."

"Duo?" Mara whispers, her eyes wary. She doesn't want to hear where this going. Trowa doesn't blame her.

Duo glances at her before forcing himself onward. "They taught me everything I needed to know in order to have my revenge. And so, on the fourth anniversary of the attack, I took it."

In Earnest's hands, the journal Duo had offered him creaks beneath his tightening grip. "What... Duo, what are you trying to tell us?"

They are perhaps the most difficult words Duo has ever had to say, but he does so unflinchingly, "I'm telling you that I am responsible for Kurt's death."

Mara is speechless.

Earnest is not. "How can you be responsible, Jesse? You were a child! What rebel group would give you the training and resources to do this?"

Trowa can sense Duo's slowly building frustration. He wants this done and over with, but until Earnest accepts what Duo is telling him, that isn't possible. Gently, Trowa shifts his hand beneath the table from his own thigh to Duo's knee and begins to rub his thumb back and forth over the denim, attempting to soothe Duo enough to get through this.

"The groups in L2 only cared about one thing: bringing down the Alliance. I was willing and I came without strings attached. The fact that I was a child only meant that I could fit through smaller spaces." Duo shakes his head. "Don't you get it? They fed, clothed, and trained me. I spied and ran messages for them. And then, when I couldn't stand the sight of that base any longer on _my _colony, I stole the explosives I needed and planted them!"

Stubbornly, Earnest shakes his head. "I don't believe it." Trowa watches as he reaches for and grasps for any reason to dispute what his nephew is telling him. "They caught you," he suddenly remembers. "You were in a detention cell. You couldn't have—"

Duo laughs darkly. "I wasn't in the cell when the bombs went off was I? After all, here I am and everyone else who was on that base is dead."

"How?" Mara breathes, trying to give her husband a moment to calm himself.

Dark humor vanishing, Duo tells her sadly, "I have a knack for getting out of confined spaces."

Earnest sets the journal down in front of him and rubs his hands over his eyes, suddenly exhausted. "So how did it happen, Jesse? Just tell me plainly."

Duo nods. "I shorted out the control panel on my cell and snuck out. When I was out of range, I triggered the detonator."

Those words, spoken so precisely, so coldly, draw a soft sob from Earnest. He doesn't look up as his shoulders begin to shake. Mara, with tears in her eyes, moves closer to him and puts an arm around his shoulders.

"Is there any possible way you could be mistaken, Jesse?" she begs, tears brimming over her lashes.

"No, ma'am," Duo replies softly. "You have my word; it's the truth."

She nods as tears roll down her face. Trowa watches as she turns to rest her forehead against her husband's and knows it's time for he and Duo to leave.

Deliberately, he squeezes Duo's knee before removing his hand in order to place a scrap of paper on the table. "This is where we will be staying until our flight later this evening."

He stands, giving Duo the room to slide out of the booth. When Trowa would have simply turned and left, Duo hesitates long enough to tell his aunt and uncle, "Thank you for seeing me."

And then they depart.

**...**

**A real bed** and a hot shower, somehow, don't inspire the same reaction that they had two weeks ago. Trowa looks away from the open bathroom door and then the pair of overly-firm hotel beds in order to find the silent figure standing at the window.

From the café to the hotel, and from the front desk to their room, Duo has said not a word. Trowa can almost smell the tension in him. He knows Duo needs to let go of some of his anxiety, needs some small release. And even though Earnest's withheld forgiveness is probably the only thing that has the power to accomplish that, Trowa refuses to leave his friend to his punishing silence.

Coming up behind him, Trowa wraps his arms around Duo's taut body. He directs his hands to cover Duo's and presses his cheek against Duo's ear. For a long moment, Duo doesn't move and Trowa begins to wonder if he's merely tolerating Trowa's embrace. But then Duo's hands shift and Trowa finds his fingers interlacing with Duo's.

"That was... hard," Duo contributes very quietly.

Trowa nods, unable to find words to express how very proud and in awe he is of Duo for what he had just done. He briefly tightens his arms around him, hoping the gesture can convey half of what he is feeling.

"But this..." Duo confides, "this waiting is even worse."

Trowa's eyes close at the pain in Duo's voice. He would offer a distraction if he seriously thought Duo would accept it. But, were he in Duo's place, Trowa would want to punish himself with the pain. To attempt to ignore it would be to belittle the importance of this moment to Duo.

Trowa says, "You will always have a home with me."

"Trowa..." Duo begins and Trowa ignores the warning in his tone.

"I'm sorry I avoided you this week." Trowa chooses his words carefully, trying to explain, but also trying to edit out his own feelings. He knows Duo does not need that kind of pressure at the moment. "I knew you had a family and I was sure that, someday, you'd want to be with them. It was easier to start distancing myself from you than to face the day when I found you packing up and heading off to be with them."

Trowa sighs. "But then I realized that it didn't matter. I was still going to miss you no matter what and I should have been enjoying my time with you instead of trying to train myself to let you go."

In his arms, Duo's breath hitches as he attempts to fill his lungs.

"I'm not telling you this because I want you to feel like you have to choose between your family and me, Duo. I just wanted to explain that it wasn't your fault."

Duo makes a sharp sound that, accompanied by a smile _might_ have been laughter. "You make it sound like that talk we just had actually went well." Duo shakes his head but leans back against Trowa finally. "It's not like they're beating down our door to welcome me into their home, Tro."

"They will," Trowa predicts. "Maybe not today, but they will."

"Is that another one of those future facts?"

"Yes."

There is a slight pause, during which Duo relaxes a bit more into his best friend's solid warmth. "Trowa?"

"Yes?"

"I don't want to think about this anymore today."

"All right," Trowa tells him, slowly turning Duo in his arms. His lips brush across Duo's eyelids and down the curve of his cheek before settling against his mouth. Like before, the kiss is undemanding. It is an offering of comfort, of acceptance.

Trowa's hands frame his face tentatively for a moment before his fingers disappear beneath the mass of hair to gently massage Duo's scalp. A soft breathy sound escapes Duo's throat and Trowa pulls back with a smile. It's an immeasurable relief to suddenly understand what Duo needs in order to relax.

"Come on, Duo," Trowa invites softly, nudging him toward the bathroom.

Duo looks at him with a slight frown.

Still smiling, Trowa informs him, "We're going to take a shower and I'm going to wash your hair for you. Then I'm going to dry and braid it for you. After that, you're going to lay down on one of these inferior beds and I'm going to give you a massage."

"And after that?" Duo wonders aloud, already starting to grin at imagining Trowa' suggestions in action.

Trowa's grin widens until he's smiling properly. He leans forward once more and briefly touches his lips to Duo's in a delicate caress.

"We'll see," he replies.

**...**

**As the sunlight begins** to redden and stretch into the room beyond the unveiled windows, long fingers trail lightly over a neatly woven plait of brown hair. There is no sound in the room with the exception of a sleeping young man's even breaths. Beside him, Trowa watches the lengthening shadows and revels in this moment of certain contentment.

Again, he sends his fingertips seeking along the length of Duo's braid and tries not to wonder how he's going to deal with Duo's departure. As he had promised, perhaps not today but _someday, _Earnest will forgive him and invite him into his life. And when that time comes, Trowa knows Duo will go. He knows he won't try to stop him. But the ache is there, waiting for that moment of loss to bloom. In fact, it had started the moment Trowa had realized Kurt Franklin had surviving relatives.

Duo is no longer an orphan.

But Trowa still is.

Caressing the smooth length of hair lying over his own chest, Trowa contemplates the young man currently resting his head on a nerve cluster in Trowa's shoulder. When had Trowa become dependant on Duo? When had his efforts to ease Duo's nightmares banished his own as well? When had living another day become something to be anticipated rather than resignedly accepted? When had he started to belong so completely to this youth he'd known of for years and yet barely known at all?

Trowa closes his eyes and determinedly thinks of something else.

And finds himself thinking of their shower. Perhaps it's not the best memory with which to distract himself from Duo's importance in his life, but once recalled, he is helpless to not savor every moment.

The bathroom had begun to fill with steam and still they had hesitated to get in. And then Trowa had reached for the hem of Duo's shirt. Duo had offered no protest as the garment had been slowly pulled up and over his head. Then, in perfect silence, he'd removed Trowa's the same way.

As the clothing had come off, the scars had come out. But it hadn't been until after Trowa had pulled Duo into the shower by his hands that they'd actually had the courage to reach out and touch the once-injured flesh that no amount of water could wash away.

Trowa remembers Duo's hands on his back, tracing the old burn scars he has no memory of acquiring. He remembers turning, expecting to see questions in Duo's eyes, but he'd found a strange acceptance. As if Duo had known something Trowa hadn't.

He'd taken his time washing Duo's hair, letting the water glide over him as they'd waited for the conditioner to do its work. Gradually, both of them had relaxed as the day and its pain had been forced down the drain and into oblivion.

They'd spoken not a single word as they'd dried each other off. Towels wrapped around their waists, Trowa had once again sat behind Duo on the bed and taken up the task of drying and braiding his hair. It had taken the better part of an hour mostly because Trowa elected to use the lowest setting on the dryer which produced an almost-soothing hum.

Hair dry, he'd begun to braid. Trowa had taken his time with this task as well, relishing the feel of the long strands. He felt not only the texture against his skin, but the monumental trust Duo had been imparting to him.

Still, no words had been spoken as Trowa had placed his hands on Duo's shoulders, asking him to lie down on his stomach. This time, Trowa had used lotion warmed in his hands to caress away Duo's tension. Before he'd finished with Duo's shoulders, he'd known Duo wouldn't be capable of keeping his eyes open for long.

He'd been kneading the small of Duo's back when Duo had rolled onto his side and held a hand out for Trowa to stretch out next to him. He had. And he'd felt Duo curl around him. One knee had settled between his. One arm had gone across his bare chest. One chaste kiss had been gifted to the corner of his mouth.

It had been all the thanks Trowa had needed. And he'd communicated that by sliding his fingers into Duo's hair and resuming his earlier massage of his scalp. Five minutes later, Duo had succumbed to sleep.

His fingers follow the path of Duo's hair again, and he's glad for Duo's braid. Glad that it gives him the opportunity to actively touch Duo without disturbing him from the sleep he desperately needs.

It is into this quiet, dusk moment, that a soft knocking on the hotel room door intercedes. Trowa turns toward it reflexively then settles his gaze back on Duo. Before he can debate the best way to disentangle himself without waking him, Duo's eyes open. The swiftness with which he does so and the level of alertness revealed tells Trowa that Duo has been awake for a while. Awake and lying still so that Trowa will continue to pet his hair.

They share small, intimate grins before rolling reluctantly apart. Trowa steps into his jeans and pulls on a shirt as the knocking resumes against the door. With a glance over his shoulder to confirm Duo's state of dress, he checks the peephole. Again, he glances at Duo and answers the unspoken question with a nod.

Yes, their visitors are Earnest and Mara Franklin.

Trowa watches Duo take a deep breath. He raises his gaze to Trowa and nods with confidence. He's ready for this.

And before Trowa can question if he, himself, is ready for this as well, he opens the door.

For a moment, no one speaks. Duo stares at his aunt and uncle. Earnest and Mara stare back. All three look pale and anxious and Trowa finds himself breaking the ice again.

"Come in, please," he invites.

Mara gives him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Trowa."

The sound of other voices coaches Earnest into finally saying what he has come here to say. "Jesse," he begins.

"Yes?" Duo replies, approaching him without hesitance. Trowa can see he will readily accept whatever verdict his uncle has decided upon. Unable to help himself, Trowa tenses in anticipation.

"I..." Earnest manages only. At his sides, his hands curl into tight fists and Trowa forces himself not to come between them.

"I still don't want to believe it," he tells Duo gruffly. "I wish it hadn't happened at all. None of it."

Duo nods once in agreement. There are only so many times a person can apologize before the words lose their sincerity, so Duo says nothing.

In a sudden move which has Trowa almost reaching for Duo, Earnest grasps the young man and pulls him close. Duo goes willingly. The sight disturbs Trowa. Duo has _never_ submitted so completely to another's will, but Trowa knows that were Earnest to beat him to death right here in this room Duo would do nothing to stop him.

And perhaps, in a way, Earnest's actions _do_ kill Duo. They destroy the uncertain, lost little boy who'd lived off of anger for so very many years.

He wraps his arms around his nephew and holds him close. Holds him close and tells him, "It wasn't your fault, Jesse."

It takes a moment for those words to register but when they do, Duo returns the embrace with equal strength. Trowa stands back and watches as Mara joins her husband and nephew. Watches as she strokes Duo's hair and murmurs her reassurances as well.

So this is it, Trowa realizes. He watches Duo embrace his family and be embraced _by_ his family. And somehow, for all of the times Trowa has envisioned this moment, he still finds himself in a state of numb shock as he realizes he's not the one Duo's holding on to.

Not anymore.

**End of Chapter 16**

[23] From "Episode Zero."

**From The Manwell:** Yeah... "Owwwchaa!" winces then smiles sheepishly Um, don't kill me for that chapter ending??


	17. Chapter 17: A New Home

**Shinigami Sleeps**

**Chapter 17: A New Home**

**"Good morning,** Trowa."

Trowa answers Mara's bright grin with a nod. "Good morning," he returns.

"Would you like some breakfast?"

"No, thank you."

"The usual, then?" she asks with a grin. For the past four days—since he and Duo had come to stay with the Franklins—Trowa has allowed Mara to serve him no more than a single cup of coffee in the mornings.

"Yeah," he replies with a lopsided almost-grin. "Thanks."

She laughs. "Are you this difficult to please all the time?"

Trowa snorts as he accepts the ceramic mug. "Yeah. Sometimes Duo just can't get rid of me fast enough." He watches Mara shake her head before turning to set the dishwasher. From this clue, he gathers that breakfast had already been served a while ago. "Did Earnest and Duo head out for the lake already?"

"That they did," Mara tells him. "And you'd better hope they don't catch anything." At Trowa's inquiring look, she adds, "I can deal with grumpy men, but fried-fish-smell is another matter entirely."

Trowa's grin fades quickly as Mara sits down across from him rather than heading out to garden or to run some errand. He briefly wonders about her abrupt change in habit but her next words clear this up for him.

"And I'd much rather sit here and talk to you about Jesse than start that load of laundry."

_Ah,_ Trowa thinks, taking a sip of coffee. "What about Duo?"

Mara smiles, not minding that Trowa still calls her nephew by his street name. In fact, it only shows her how stubbornly Trowa is clinging to his friend. She finds this encouraging. "You care for him very much," she observes. "And I've tried to manage it myself but it's no good, Trowa."

"What's that?" he asks, dreading the speech he's sure he's about to receive. He anticipates her telling him that she's tried to be accepting of _that_ sort of relationship but has decided she can't be. So he's a little surprised when she tells him:

"I can't make you smile the way your Duo can."

_Your__ Duo._ That one thought comes through loud and clear amongst the other messages she's sending him with that one sentence. He takes note of the concession, that no matter what his real name and heritage is, Mara knows exactly where her nephew belongs. For a moment, Trowa allows the idea to warm him but then reality returns.

"Duo belongs here," he replies quietly. "With his family."

Mara reaches across the table and lays a hand on Trowa's arm, preventing him from hiding behind his coffee cup again. "We have been here for fifteen years, not daring to hope that Kurt, Sylvia, or Jesse had somehow survived. We'll be here a while longer yet. And we can wait to see him again because the person who really needs him right now isn't Earnest. It's you, Trowa."

Trowa acknowledges her wisdom with a reluctant nod. "That may be," he concedes. "But you and Earnest are who _he_ needs right now."

Mara hums a note of disagreement. "I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you."

But Trowa doesn't dare second guess his evaluation of Duo's needs. After all, it takes every ounce of his own discipline to continually reinforce the belief that he must soon step aside. Stubbornly, Trowa tells her, "Duo deserves to be happy."

"And you don't?"

Trowa lifts his gaze to hers. "I'm used to getting by."

Mara shakes her head. "Be careful, Trowa. In sacrificing your own happiness, you need to consider what you'll be denying your Duo." She stands and pushes her chair in before concluding, "Earnest and I cannot give him what you do. Before you act in his best interests, be sure you're not just _assuming_ you know what's really important to him."

He watches Mara head for the utility room, declining to offer a comment. After a long moment, he returns his attention to his cooling cup of coffee.

Mara doesn't understand. She doesn't see how Duo's dependence on Trowa is more from habit than anything else. And Trowa doesn't want to start something that could become more than friendship with a foundation like that. Duo must stand on his own. Only then will he be capable of making the decision to pursue a relationship with Trowa. Only then will a relationship stand a chance of being successful.

But Trowa is afraid. He fears that Duo will try to convince him otherwise. He fears that he'll give in. And fears that both of them will end up paying with even more pain that they've already experienced.

_This is the only way._

With a sigh, Trowa checks his watch and notes the time. He has almost ten hours before his flight. Ten hours before he'll be on his way back to the circus. Ten hours to come up with the right words to convince Duo that this is for the best.

**...**

**"Well, I'm sorry** we didn't catch anything, Jesse," Earnest tells him as he holds open the kitchen door. He winks conspiratorially at his nephew who enters the house first.

Duo has to hide a grin as he recalls his uncle's reasoning for letting every fish they'd caught go free. "Hey, that's okay, man. It was still cool, you know?"

"Hey, boys!" Mara greets. And then: "You didn't catch anything?"

Duo looks for and sees the decided lack of disappointment in her features.

"Not a one," Earnest sighs dejectedly. "I hope you had a back-up plan for dinner, dear."

"Oh... I might be able to come up with something," she says, trying to sound uncertain.

Shaking his head at the two of them, Duo heads for the stairs in search of a fresh change of clothes and perhaps a quick shower. He, for one, is _damn_ tired of smelling like insect repellant.

"Hey, Tro," he says, seeing his friend through the narrow crack provided by the open door.

"Hey" is the quiet reply. "How was fishing?"

"Okay," Duo tells him approaching their shared bed. He flops down on his back and chuckles at the ceiling. "Remind me to tell you the unabridged version when Mara can't possibly hear me."

"Hm," Trowa acknowledges.

Duo sighs happily. "I had an awesome time, Tro. You wouldn't believe the stuff I found about my dad." He chuckles. "Like, he was in the Glee Club in the military academy."

"The Glee Club," Trowa intones.

Duo has to laugh. "Yeah. And he used to have this pet ferret named Dinkledorf."

"That's a long name for a ferret."

"A _girl_ ferret, no less."

"How devastating for her."

"And there was this one time Kurt and Earnest went camping and they caught the tent on fire!" Duo tries to relate the story to Trowa in between bouts of laughter. He's not sure if Trowa can make out his words for the chuckles interspersed, but he manages to convey the gist of it: a wrestling match over the last marshmallow gone horribly awry.

"And I was... laughing... so hard... I almost... dumped us in... the lake!" Duo wheezes. He chuckles over that for a moment more before taking a few deep breaths. Just as he regains control of his voice once more, the side of the bed dips with Trowa's weight.

"I'm glad you had fun," he tells him sincerely.

Smiling, Duo reaches for Trowa's hand. "Yeah. We should go fishing sometime, you and I."

Trowa nods once. "Can you swim?"

"Can I swim?" Duo repeats, indignant. "What kind of question is that?"

"The kind someone who's planning on dunking you would ask," Trowa tells him.

Duo snorts. "Just can't hold back any of the mystery, eh, Tro?"

"No self discipline," the other young man offers drolly.

"Ha! Now _that's _funny." Duo grins at him from his prone position for a moment before pulling himself upright and folding his arms around Trowa's shoulders. "I missed sharing today with you, man."

Trowa seems to hesitate before wrapping an arm around Duo in return. "Next time," he says.

Against Trowa's neck, Duo nods his head and sighs.

"Ah, Duo?"

"Hm?"

"Were you planning on taking a shower before dinner?"

Duo leans back and grins broadly. "Are you trying to tell me I'm not pleasantly aromatic?"

"You are..." Trowa begins, a strange emotion eking out in his voice, "_very_ aromatic."

"Yeah, well," Duo tells him, climbing off of the bed, "if you had to choose between being a floating buffet or being a little smelly..."

"A _little_ smelly?"

On a half-laugh half-sigh, Duo tells him, "Shut up, dude."

"Mission accepted."

Duo points an accusing finger at his roommate. "Do _not_ pull a Yuy on me, man."

Trowa arcs a brow in disbelief. Their eyes meet and the moment hangs between them for one heartbeat. Two. And then:

"Shower, stink-boy."

"No respect," Duo grumbles with a grin. "Absolutely no respect."

"And wash your hair," Trowa directs.

Duo leans an arm up on the doorframe separating the bedroom from the adjoining bath. "Why should I? Maybe I want to offend your fragile sensibilities?"

"Maybe you ask too many questions?"

Duo laughs. "Well, I guess I could wash it. I mean, Mara's gonna need a few minutes to whip up that dinner she's trying to act like she hadn't already planned for tonight."

The corner of Trowa's mouth twitches upward at that.

"Hey..." Duo begins, his smile shifting until it's an expression of shyness. "You wanna give me a hand with this hair?"

Trowa nods. "I'll be here when you get out."

"Cool," Duo says and retreats into the bathroom. He closes the door but doesn't immediately commence with his shower. Instead, he continues looking at the wood panel as if he could see right through it. As if he could continue studying Trowa without the other youth realizing it. Eventually, Duo turns away with a shake of his head.

He can feel the distance between them increasing. Ever since they'd taken Earnest and Mara up on their offer of hospitality, Trowa has been attempting to fade into the background. And all of Duo's attempts to share these new experiences and information with him have been met with mere polite interest. He's not sure what to say—what to _do—_to convince Trowa that Duo _wants_ to share this with him.

With a heavy sigh, Duo strips off his clothes and climbs into the shower. He doesn't linger under the spray. Some instinct drives him to wash up quickly so that he can have a few quiet moments with Trowa. Duo hopes that the ritual of drying and braiding his hair will give Trowa the opening he needs to say what's on his mind.

And there is definitely something on his mind.

Having not taken a change of clothes into the bathroom with him, Duo wraps a towel around his waist. But when his fingers curl around the knob, he hesitates. It's stupid, he knows, but as long as the door is closed, Trowa's still in the room beyond and there's still hope that Duo might get through to him that he really wants his friend to be here with him.

Duo gets a little angry at himself for such superstitious thoughts and yanks the door open. The first thing he sees, seated on the bed with a brush in his hands, is Trowa. At Duo's abrupt entrance, Trowa raises a brow in silent question and Duo finds himself relaxing enough to offer a chagrinned expression. He crosses the room and plops down on the edge of the bed, presenting his back to Trowa.

As the brush slides through Duo's hair, Trowa offers, "Things have turned out all right."

"Yeah," Duo agrees, hoping Trowa will get around to talking about what's really on his mind.

"You seem happy here" is the next comment.

Duo shrugs. "Earnest and Mara are cool," he replies neutrally.

"I know we didn't anticipate staying for very long, but maybe you should."

"You think we should hang out here for another couple of days?" he says, purposefully ignoring the bulk of Trowa's meaning.

"Longer than a couple of days," he says after a moment, "and... just you staying, Duo."

Duo feels his body tense with frustration. He can clearly recall a time, not so long ago, when Trowa had insisted he wouldn't leave Duo alone, and now it seems like all Trowa is trying to do anymore is just _leave._

"The circus will be going on the road soon. You could just catch up to us later," Trowa suggests.

"Would I be welcome?" Duo inquires softly.

The rhythm of the brush slows for a moment. "You are always welcome, Duo."

"Then why are you always pushing me away?" Duo turns as he speaks, his quiet voice somehow filling the room in a way in which only a shout is capable.

Trowa lowers the hair brush and sighs. "Don't you want to find out who you are?"

Duo blinks. "What? Now that I know I have family?"

Trowa nods.

"Trowa, this doesn't change who I am. I _know_ who I am. I may not like it most of the time, but I do know."

The muscles along Trowa's jaw tense as he searches for the words to accurately express his thoughts. "But, you're also Jesse Franklin and he's—"

"Put yourself in my place," Duo invites. "Would you suddenly become a different person if you were to find your family? Would you have to change just because a small, select group of people know you by another name?" He pauses and draws a deep breath. "Would you want to go through that alone?"

"But you aren't alone. Earnest and Mara—"

"Have absolutely no idea how fucking terrified I am. How confusing all of this is sometimes. They don't have a clue, Tro. And that's why I asked you to come with me."

For a moment, Trowa is silent. His expression is unreadable and Duo is forced to rethink what he'd just said, looking far ways Trowa could have misinterpreted his words.

"That's not why you asked me to come with you," Trowa disagrees flatly.

This is news to Duo. "Oh, really? Well, why _did_ I ask you?"

"Habit."

Duo needs a moment to digest that and he's still not sure he heard that right. "What?"

"Habit," Trowa repeats.

"You need to explain exactly what you mean by that," Duo tells him, his voice gaining a hard edge to it.

With a sigh, Trowa runs a hand through his hair, something Duo's never seen him do before. "You're used to me, used to my presence," he tries to explain. "I'm familiar but maybe I shouldn't be." He drops his hand into his lap and transfers his gaze to Duo. "You need to see what else life has to offer you before you make a choice, Duo."

Duo's eyes narrow. "You say that like staying with you would be a hardship to _me._" He shakes his head. "The hardest part about hanging out with you is moments like this one." Duo pins Trowa in place with his gaze. "Why do you think that by staying with you I'm settling for second best?" Duo cannot fathom how Trowa can feel this way.

Trowa opens his mouth to respond but then something in his expression changes and the words die unvoiced. Duo watches, not a little confused, as Trowa gets up from the bed and moves toward the door. It's then that Duo notices the packed duffle slumped against the wall.

"You're leaving," Duo observes.

"Yes," Trowa replies even though the words hadn't really been spoken in the form of a question.

"Because you think I belong here and you don't."

Trowa pauses in the act of opening the door and, looking over his shoulder, says quietly, "Because this is the way it has to be."

And then he turns and walks away.

But not before Duo had seen the pain in those familiar, green eyes.

**...**

**_What have I done?_**

Trowa leans his head back against the seat and waits for his flight to begin boarding. He tries to banish that single question but it circles in his thoughts, relentless. So he attempts to answer it.

_I've given Duo the chance to let go of his past._

But that's not the right answer and the question echoes again.

Again he tries to assuage it.

_I've done the right thing._

Still, the part of his mind that refuses to accept the fact that he'd just walked away from his closest friend is unsatisfied.

_I've given Duo the chance to be happy._

A moment of blessed silence accompanies that admission. Trowa dares to hope this is the end of his internal dialog.

_And are you happy?_

The new question startles him, making him cross his arms over his chest to hide the jolt of pain it inspires.

_If Duo's happy, I'm happy,_ he responds decisively.

"And you know exactly what it takes to make me happy?"

Trowa's eyes snap open and take in a vision of Duo, hair messily braided, clothes rumpled, and bag bulging with haphazardly packed items. The vision moves closer and leans down until they're nearly nose to nose.

"Do you?" Duo repeats softly.

The feel of Duo's warm breath against his skin, the scent of shampoo, the slow tightening of Duo's white knuckled grip on his back pack strap all communicate to Trowa the fact that Duo is really here, that this is real, that he'd spoken that last admission aloud.

He says nothing, simply watches as Duo grins down at him affectionately. "Cathy was right, you know. You _do_ need a kick in the pants."

Trowa watches Duo lower himself into the seat opposite. For nearly a minute, they simply stare at each other.

"What are you doing here?" Trowa manages in a slightly rusty voice. "Earnest and Mara—"

"Wished me well, packed us a couple of sandwiches, and sent me on my way with the promise that we'll _both_ come back in the summer to meet my cousins."

Trowa can't think of a reply to that, so he doesn't bother to mutter one.

"You didn't answer my question, Trowa," Duo continues after it becomes clear Trowa has nothing to say. And before he can ask Duo to repeat it, the young man leans forward and asks, "Do you know what would make me happy?"

"I..." Trowa begins, suddenly unsure. "I can imagine," he manages finally.

"I'm sure you can and you have," Duo tells him. "But have you considered this: what makes me happy is knowing I can make _you_ happy?"

Duo doesn't wait for a reply.

"So answer me this, Trowa: what do you want?"

As Trowa opens his mouth to reply, Duo touches his fingertips to the other youth's lips and carefully elaborates his question.

"What do you want for _you_, Trowa? Be selfish for one minute and tell me what you really want."

Trowa reaches for and captures Duo's fingers gently in his grasp. Slowly, he pulls Duo's palm to his mouth and brushes his lips across the calloused skin. He stares at Duo over his hand, noting the way Duo's lips have parted in response, the way his breathing has become slightly shallow and more rapid. Beneath his fingertips, he can feel Duo's pulse beating just a little faster than normal. He lowers Duo's hand from his mouth and interlaces their fingers.

Without a sound, Trowa mouths the dream he's so afraid of wishing for and losing, _"You."_

And a dazzling smile is his reward. "Is that the truth?"

Trowa nods, still grasping Duo's hand.

Grinning widely, Duo reaches his free hand out and wraps it around Trowa's neck. Trowa allows Duo to guide him nearer until he can feel the soft brush of Duo's nose against his own.

"That's good, Trowa, because you're what I want, too." Duo leans back just far enough to meet Trowa's gaze and continues, "And it has everything to do with the person you are and the person I am when I'm with you and the people we can become when we're together."

Trowa's eyes close as he attempts to control the sudden near-painful release of tension those words have caused.

"Can you trust me to know what's best for _me_?" Duo whispers, his fingers massaging the back of Trowa's neck.

Slowly, Trowa opens his eyes and studies Duo's expression. He sees affection, sincerity, and confidence.

_Confidence._

Trowa looks into Duo's eyes and sees the state of contentment he'd hoped Duo would be able to achieve. Very clearly, Trowa tells him, "I trust you."

"And do you believe me when I say that I am ready to go back to the circus now?"

"I believe you."

"And you understand that _that's_ where I want to be?"

"I understand."

Duo grins. "Good. And now it's your turn to lean on _me_ for a while."

Trowa blinks in slight, silent confusion.

"You helped me find my family," Duo elucidates quietly. "And now I'll help you find yours."

Trowa releases a breath and tells him somberly, "Duo, the odds of us finding any remaining members of my family are..." But Trowa doesn't mention the actual odds. Duo's slow smile rather effectively interrupts him.

"Something tells me," Duo muses aloud, "that you're pretty good at beating the odds. Besides," he continues with an enigmatic grin, "maybe they'll find _you._"

Trowa finds the thought of that happening not a little frightening and the emotion must show in his eyes because Duo gently squeezes their still-interlaced hands tightly together. Knowing that Duo won't leave him to face that obstacle alone, Trowa relaxes and offers an apologetic smile as he suddenly understands why Duo had asked Trowa to meet the Franklins with him.

And Duo accepts the apology with a quick, soft brush of his lips against Trowa's mouth. Still smiling, Duo gets to his feet and tugs on Trowa's hand. "Come on, Trowa. I'm ready to go home."

**End of Chapter 17**

**From The Manwell: **Ah, so... am I done or do I need an epilogue? What say you?


	18. Chapter 18: Living the Dream

**From The Manwell: **Wow! Thanks for the reviews! It's so nice to know my efforts are appreciated. Really, guys. You're the best. So here is the LAST portion of "Shinigami Sleeps." I'm not sure it's what many of you had in mind, but I like it.

**...**

**Shinigami Sleeps**

**Chapter 18: Living the Dream **

_**"Duo?"** I whisper, but my voice seems to echo loudly in the small room. I'm in an old farmhouse I've never seen before but somehow still recognize. And I'm in a room that is inexplicably familiar as well. But what is truly disturbing is that I'm not remotely surprised by the sight before me._

_It's Duo._

_And he's..._

_I approach the rickety cot and reach out to touch the torn and stained black cloth that had once been a priest's tunic. Duo does not stir. He's..._

_Unconscious._

_"Duo?"_

_I say his name again, feeling some strange urgency to wake him, to know that he's all right, that he's just sleeping. But I start to panic. I grasp his hand but his skin is cold. Is he even breathing?_

_I lean over him to check his pulse but a hand on my shoulder stops me. Although I hadn't realized I wasn't alone with Duo, I'm not startled. The warmth from that hand seeps into me, calming me, and I turn toward him. Somehow, I know who it is even before I see his face._

_"What's wrong with him, Trowa?" I ask._

_But Trowa just smiles kindly at me and gently inserts his body between mine and Duo's. I take a step back. Trowa will know what to do. I'm sure of it._

_I watch as he gently unbuttons Duo's black overshirt before smoothing his hands down Duo's arms to tangle their fingers together. I stare as Trowa gently pulls Duo up from the bed by his hands. Seeing this, it looks as if Duo must weigh almost nothing as Trowa guides him to his feet. I marvel at this for a moment before I realize I'm marveling at Duo's nude form._

_With his eyes open and his hair down, he's almost unrecognizable. There's a peace about him I'd never really seen before. And the way he looks into Trowa's eyes..._

_I have to glance away, to give them a moment. I feel as if I'm intruding on something very intimate._

_The only other thing in the room is the cot and I turn to study it with great interest. And I gasp when I see it._

_For Duo is still there, still sleeping, still clothed in his battle-worn black. The corner of his priest's collar is smudged with something that must be blood and his hair is still pulled back into its braid. For a moment, I don't understand._

_I glance at Trowa and Duo, standing together, then return my gaze to the fallen soldier lying so still on the dusty mattress._

_But then a gentle touch draws my attention away. Duo is smiling before me, his other hand still joined with Trowa's. It's an invitation I see in his eyes, in both his and Trowa's, but I'm not sure what it is they'll do._

_I'm strangely not embarrassed as Duo removes Trowa's long-sleeved shirt and worn jeans. Neither Duo nor Trowa pay me any attention as they stand before each other, perfectly nude. And I find myself transfixed by the immeasurable trust they have for one another._

_And then, Duo leans forward and runs his hand over one of the many scars in Trowa's flesh. His palm and then his fingers trail over the damaged skin, easing it, erasing it until the scar has vanished._

_That's when I think I understand. I look from Trowa's now smooth skin to Duo's calm expression and finally to the black-clothed figure still motionless on the bed._

_"Yes," I tell them both. "I see."_

_Trowa smiles softly and Duo nods once to me before they turn back to each other and Duo touches his lips to his soul mate's._

**...**

**"Quatre?"******

Coming back to himself with a small start, Quatre looks up and sees a silent expectation expressed in Heero Yuy's eyes. "Sorry, Heero. What did you say?"

Heero reaches for the chair next to Quatre's and pulls it away from the small patio table before taking a seat. "Nothing," he tells Quatre. "You looked... far away, is all."

"I was remembering a dream I had," he explains with a sheepish grin.

Heero arcs a brow, intending to inquire about it when the terrace doors open, admitting a young man bundled up in a pair of mittens, a down coat, and a thick scarf.

"Hey, guys," he greets.

Quatre smiles. "Hey, Duo. What are you up to?"

A grin of near-devilish glee curves his lips. "Quatre, just look at all that virgin snow, untouched by man or beast," he says with a sweeping gesture to indicate the perfect whiteness beyond the edge of the terrace.

"Yeah, I see it," Quatre assures him.

"Are you going to answer the question?" Heero intones.

Duo smirks down at the dark-haired young man. "Now why would I do a thing like that?" he replies before turning on his heel and approaching the edge of the sheltered patio.

Quatre opens his mouth to attempt to cajole Duo into sharing his plans when Trowa and Wufei wander out of the house.

"Duo?" Trowa's quiet voice inquires.

Turning around completely, Duo drawls, "Yees?"

"What are you doing?"

"You'll see" is the cryptic reply.

Trowa glances at Quatre and Heero momentarily and ascertains that they haven't been made privy to Duo's thoughts, either. He turns back to his lover just in time to watch Duo open his arms and fall backwards into the sea of snow.

"Duo!" Wufei shouts, running to the edge of the veranda in an attempt to prevent the stunt. He arrives too late however and all four young men watch as Duo falls backward and down... and down... disappearing beneath the surface of the snow altogether.

Trowa quickly joins Wufei at the edge of the terrace and looks down into the hole Duo had just made. For a moment, all is silent. And then:

"Maxwell? Are you still alive?"

A soft noise bubbles up from the bottom of the pit which escalates until Duo's laughter is easily heard by all four friends.

Wufei looks away from the hole and informs Trowa, "He's insane."

Trowa just smiles.

Seeing he'll get no reasonable response from Barton, Wufei starts toward the house muttering, "I'll find a ladder, then."

Quatre and Heero watch Trowa lean over the edge to chuckle at Duo.

"It was supposed to be a snow angel," he tells Trowa loud enough for the others to hear as well. "But I think I'll call this one 'Newbie Skier's Demise.'"

"I like it," Trowa replies.

"But somehow... I think it's missing something, Tro."

Trowa arcs a brow. "And what would that be? A Saint Bernard with a barrel of rum around his neck?"

Quatre chokes back a laugh at Trowa's dry comment.

"Um, no. I was thinking more along the lines of the newbie skier's distraught boyfriend jumping in after him to make sure he's okay."

Trowa crosses his arms over his chest. "You want me to jump down there after you?" He snorts. "You just don't want to be the only one Wufei glares at when he comes back with the ladder."

"Actually," Duo replies in a sober tone, "I'm starting to freeze my ass off down here—as well as other unmentionables—so, the way I see it, it's in your best interest to try and warm me up here."

Trowa releases a martyred sigh and glares down into the hole for an instant before stepping off of the edge of the terrace to join him.

"Barton!" Wufei shouts, coming through the open door with an extension ladder. "What the hell are you doing?! You're going to miss the New Year's fireworks!"

"Somehow I don't think they'll mind," Heero says with no small measure of sarcasm.

Wufei makes a sound in the back of his throat indicating how very much he _didn't _need to hear that. He carries the ladder over to the hole and glances down. Apparently he also _sees_ something he feels he doesn't need to because he shouts, "Maxwell! Barton! Ladder! Pay attention!"

Heero snorts and Quatre has to bite his own lip to keep from laughing.

Wufei maneuvers the ladder into the hole and jerks it in such a way that both Heero and Quatre know someone just got smacked in the back of the head with a rung.

"Get a _room!_" Wufei bellows.

"We have a room," Trowa points out calmly.

Wufei elaborates with a dark glare, "One that's not next to _mine!_"

Quatre can't help it; he laughs. Even Heero is smiling. Grudgingly, Wufei holds the ladder steady while Duo and Trowa ascend. Far from looking frozen, Duo is grinning widely and his eyes are sparkling with mirth.

"You know, Tro. Next year, I think we should bring a date for Wufei."

Wufei glowers.

Trowa grins. "He does look a little... lonely."

On a growl, Wufei informs them in his best Preventer's tone, "You - Barton and Maxwell - are one syllable away from getting dumped back in that hole and left there overnight."

Taking in the feral gleam in Wufei's dark eyes, Duo holds back his laughter with an effort and nods his surrender.

"Duo?" Quatre inquires with an astonished expression. "You're just going to let Wufei win this round?"

"Yeah," Duo sighs out, eyes still shining with mirth, "I didn't get him a Christmas present, so..."

Before Wufei can do more than roll his eyes, Trowa points out, "Duo, the snow's melting through your jeans."

"I _highly_ doubt that's _only_ snow," Wufei mutters darkly.

Duo and Trowa glance at each other in mild surprise at hearing such a statement from their straight-laced friend. Duo sniggers. "Uh, um, yeah. We weren't down there _that_ long and _before_ you slander our respective endurances need I remind you that we were _both_ Gundam pilots?"

"And?" Wufei looks unimpressed.

Duo opens his mouth to retort but Trowa nudges his shoulder just in time. "Come on, Duo. Let's get changed and then you can rip into him."

"Grr," Duo says, heading for the terrace doors with Trowa in tow. "I hate snow."

As soon as the doors shut behind them, Wufei, Heero, and Quatre burst into laughter. Wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, Wufei lowers himself into a third chair.

"Oh, wow," Quatre mutters, winding down. "I don't think I've ever seen either of them like that before."

"Like what?" Heero deadpans. "Walking hormones?"

Wufei snorts at that before becoming serious. "They have been good for each other."

Quatre agrees. "Trowa smiles now and Duo..." His voice trails off as he tries to articulate the change he's witnessed in Duo over the last two days of their holiday gathering. The table grows silent as all three contemplate this new Duo. "He's different and yet he's not..." Quatre ponders aloud.

He recalls the honest laughter and the good-natured arguing, remembers the warmth in his smile and look in his eyes when he'd caught Trowa's gaze... Quatre's eyes widen. _That look__..._

"It's Duo's Shinigami," he says suddenly, quietly, drawing the attention of his companions. He glances from Wufei to Heero, remembering his dream and the battered soldier lying as still as death. "Shinigami..."

Heero smiles as he picks up the thread of Quatre's unvoiced thought and finishes it. In a voice warmed by affection for the former Deathscythe pilot, he concludes, "Shinigami sleeps."

**The End**

**From The Manwell: **Yeah, I know I didn't go into the deal between Cathy and Trowa, but really, I think you can guess how he'd react. So, yeah, there's a "happy ending" feeling here but after all the crap I put Duo and Trowa through in this story, I figured I kinda owed them one. Besides, I absolutely HAD to work in the title of the story at the end.

**Don't Forget:** I do have a few other stories coming soon but I will NOT be posting them here. They will contain yaoi and, therefore, citrus, so if you are of legal age to read such things, please head over to my website: Left Wing. You can find the URL on my Bio page. Thanks again for sticking this out with me! Until later, then! - The Manwell


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